


Won't You Just F*cking Kill Me?

by Aurealis



Category: Iron Man (Movies), Marvel, Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man - All Media Types, Spider-Man: Homecoming (2017), The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Accidental overdose, Age Regression/De-Aging, Airplane Crashes, Beaches, Betrayal, Blood, Bruises, CPR, Cancer, Depression, Electrocution, Gen, Hair Loss, Hot Chocolate, Housefire, Hurt Peter, Insomnia, Leukemia, Medical Procedures, Mouth-to-Mouth, Multiple Personalities, Non-Sexual Age Play, Ocean, Overdose, Peter Parker Needs a Hug, Platonic Cuddling, Psychosis, Sexual Abuse, Sexual Content, Stabbing, Stomach Pumping, Stranded, Suicide Attempt, Tony Feels, Tony Stark Acting as Peter Parker's Parental Figure, Tony Stark Has A Heart, Vomiting, Whump, Whumptober 2018, defibrillation, defibrillator
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-10-08
Updated: 2019-01-31
Packaged: 2019-07-28 07:45:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 15
Words: 27,418
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16237241
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aurealis/pseuds/Aurealis
Summary: My small contribution to the Whumptober of 2018. Some tropes will be discarded due to lack of inspiration. Be prepared for a lot of hurt Peter and caring Tony!





	1. 1. Stabbed

**Author's Note:**

> I'm dreadfully late with this but better now than never, right? It's only the 9th where I live.   
> First is Stabbed and no, I have never written anything with stab wounds and yes, I was very lacking with inspiration

”Motherfucking-” The pain was incredible, deep and burning. Whoever said that body tended to protect itself from intense agony by going into shock and nulling all senses was lying. 

“Bitch, whore, fuck,” Peter grunted and leaned against the alley wall and fished out his phone. He selected one of the most used contacts and pressed call.

He grunted as another spasm hit him. The boy had taken off his mask and jammed it into his mouth to stifle the cries.

“Hey, kid,” His mentors voice faked casualty. “Seeing as your curfew isn’t for another hour, I doubt this just a courtesy call.”

“Mr Stark,” Peter gulped and coughed, his breaths quickening in knowing he was going to be safe. “I need help.”

“I figured that one out. Car or suit?”

“I- I'll send you a picture.”

A light flashed and the bloody thigh was memorized on server. He pressed send and the image appeared underneath an argument about whether Lord of the Rings or Godfather were the better movie.

“I’m not a medical expert but I would say it’s not life-threatening.”

“Hurts like a bitch, though.”

Mr Stark chuckled darkly: “Yeah, I have had my fair share of injuries. Full-body armor can only protect you so much.”

“You don’t say.”

“I’ll come and get you in a car. It’s seems it’s best to keep the leg straight, that might lower the possibility of nerve damage.”

“At this point I wish you would just burn all my nerves off.”

Peter heard the car door slam and Tony telling his location out loud, probably to Happy. There were few he trusted with his Spider Kid.

The pair kept talking the entire time Peter spent alone and helpless, or rather, Tony asked questions to gauge the boy’s state of alertness and Peter spent every curse word known to mankind as the injury caused him agony. Thank God Tony had never been a strict proper language unlike Aunt May who would wash his mouth with soap if he said as much as ‘shit’.

“Yep,” Tony lifted his jacket which he had pressed on the wound to protect it and stem the blood. “It’s already starting to clot.”

Peter leaned his head against the seat and closed his eyes briefly.

“Hey!” A snap brought him back to awareness. “Sleep when we get to medbay and you are hooked up on monitors.”

“I wasn’t about to sleep,” The boy protested with a tired glare. “You’re just being a mother hen.”

“Because you need one!” Tony snapped and put a hand to his forehead in frustration. “What happened to me? I used to be cool, women and men on each finger and now, I am stuck babysitting the most stubborn vigilante in existence!”

“Your decision, not mine.”

The only response Tony gave was a heated glare.

“You are so grounded.”


	2. 2. Bloody Hands

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> As title told you, includes blood plus some heartfelt conversations

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one I liked! I have wanted to write a scene like this forever.

“Mr Stark, do you have a plaster?”

“No, this is a superhero base with no first aid equipment.”

Peter did not appreciate his dry humor and Tony had to chuckle at the irritated look on his face. The man slapped his knees and got up, joints groaning at the strain.

“Okay, kiddie, what do we have- Jesus!”

He had been expecting a papercut but Peter’s hands were covered in blood. Either the boy had a deep wound or had waited way too long to seek for help.

“What the hell, Pete!” Tony grabbed the boy from the shoulders and walked him to the kitchen sink, briskly. He turned the faucet to cold and guided Peter’s hands under the stream.

“Ow!” The boy screamed but valiantly kept his hands still as Tony scrubbed away the blood and cleaned the wounds: they were small but numerous.

“What the hell happened?”

“I-“ Peter gulped and from the expression on his face Tony knew he was not going to like the explanation. “I broke a glass.”

“Did you break it while you gripped it or-?”

“No, I- I dropped it. I did not know where the dustbin was so I-“

“Picked them up with your hands,” The man sighed, he was irritated and angry but to whom he was not sure. “Why did you not tell me?”

There was a gleam in Peter’s eyes, the kind Tony hated: the one that made the boy looked vulnerable and unsure of himself. Peter should never have any doubt about the world or his perception of it. 

“I was afraid you would be mad.”

“Why would I be mad?” The wounds were starting to close but they were at a risk for infection. With a swift move, one that his back protested but his heart love, Tony picked up the boy from under the arms and hoisted him on the countertop. He grabbed a first aid kit grabbed a roll of gauze.

Peter avoided his eyes.

“It- it looked expensive, it was very pretty and I just- don’t want to bother you with every little thing.”

The man nodded as he opened a tube of salve and started applying it to the rapidly forming scars. Peter nearly jerked his hand away on instinct but Tony kept a hold of his wrist. 

“Okay, that train of thought might have seemed logical but let me assure you, kid, you are wrong.”

He opened the gauze and began to wrap it around the wounds. 

“Yes, the glass was expensive but still, it was only matter. It was a thing, I can buy a dozen of them and it would not make a dent in my account. But Peter, the real issue here is you need to learn to ask. It won’t make me upset if you open your mouth and speak when you need something. “

“But it was your glass that I broke.”

“Did you do it on purpose?” 

Peter shook his head and Tony shrugged.

“I don’t see what issue there is then. Accidents happen all the time, Rhodey has broken so many of my glasses when he puts them in the dishwasher that it has become a meme.”

“Yeah, but, it’s Rhodey, your best friend-“

“And what are you, chopped liver?” Tony raised an eyebrow with a small smirk and Peter chuckled. 

“But seriously, if something like this happens again or you spill something or whatnot, just tell me. I have money to pay for the dry cleaning.”

He took a slice of tape and fastened the wrapping around Peter’s hands.

“Just-“ Tony looked at his work and stroked the boy’s fingers. “I don’t want you hurt on my watch, not if I can prevent it.”

Peter gave a soft ‘okay’ and Tony lifted the boy off the counter so he did not need to put any weight on his healing hands, and tucked him against his side.

“Now, next on the agenda: ice cream and a movie of your choice. Doctor’s orders."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kudos and comments are given a loving home!


	3. 3. Insomnia

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Peter can't sleep and Tony has some... dubious methods

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope no one will hang me for this chapter and how this Tony goes against my beliefs of the character

The clock was 2.30 in the morning and Peter could not sleep. He had been rolling on his bed almost 4 hours. Even Tony was asleep which was a miracle in itself! Universe must really hate him.

The boy jumped up, irritated at his own mind which would not let him rest. He marched to the kitchen, sat on a stool and leaned his head on the countertop. He usually sat on it, watching his mentor make dinner (Tony made killer pasta). The surface was cool under his forehead and he wondered whether he was getting sick.

“Peter?” Tony appeared from behind a counter and the boy lifted his head.

“Why aren’t you sleeping?”

Peter shrugged and the man walked closer. He put a hand on the boy’s forehead.

“You don’t feel warm,” He confirmed his assessment with the back of his hand from the boy’s neck. It was not fever.

“I just- I can’t sleep.”

Tony harrumphed with displeasure.

“Well, that won’t do,” He rounded the counter table, lifted the water kettle and opened the sink. “How about I make you a drink, something warm, it might relax you?”

Five minutes later, a mug of hot chocolate rested between the boy’s hands. Peter usually did it with milk and he was wary about the taste. 

“Try it,” Tony sensed his apprehension. “My mother used to make it for me.”

The boy was touched he got ingrained into Stark family traditions and took a sip, warmth filling his stomach- along with something else. Peter sputtered and coughed.

“What the hell is in this?!”

The man shrugged: “Just some Bailey’s liquor. “

“Mr Stark! I’m underage!”

“This country’s laws have always been a bit backwards,” Tony argued. “You can go to war at 18 but having a drink? Hell, no, you’re not mature enough for that.”

He had a point, Peter had to admit but it did not change the fact that he was 15. Tony seemed to read his mind and leaned towards him.

“Pete, it’s okay, I swear. I only put a little of it, it’s probably your senses that that tasted it in the first place. I don’t intent to get you drunk, it’s just to relax you a bit. You have school tomorrow.”

The boy bit his lip and watched the drink swirl in the mug. It tasted good…

“So, I won’t be hangover?”

The man chuckled and ruffled his hair with affection.

“I swear, kid, a little bit won’t kill you. And if something goes wrong, I’ll get you to medbay in a second, deal?”

Peter gave a small smile at his mentor and took another sip. This time the liquor did not come off as strong since he knew to expect it. The drink was good, tasty, and his muscles started to relax. He focused on Tony ranting about the law, telling his mother’s remedies that included methods that would not fly today.

“She used to soak socks in alcohol and put them on my feet, with slices of onions in them.”

“Really? It does work?”

“Sure does, kid, I have read some papers and it does have effect.”

It takes half an hour but finally the mug is empty and so is Peter’s mind. Tony watches with small smile as he takes the dish away and rinses it in the sink. The boy is leaning his head on his hands, eyes drooping every few seconds and wavering on his seat. 

“Alright, Spider Baby,” He walks behind Peter and grabs his arms. “Let’s get you to bed.”

It takes a moment for the words to register. Then, the boy nods and maneuvers himself down from the high stool, with lot less grace for someone with his abilities. 

“Mr Stark?”

Tony hums as he wraps an arm around the kid’s shoulders, Peter’s head lolls on his bicep.

“Am I drunk?”

The man has to stifle a laugh at the innocent question.

“No, Pete,” He says softly, dreading a louder volume might raise the boy’s awareness and scare sleep away. “C’mon, I’ll tuck you in.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kudos and comments are given a loving home!


	4. 4. "No, stop"

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Peter meets a stranger

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This actually deals with a problem I have. More at the end.

“Mr Stark, I am a big boy, I can totally take the subway.”

“Mr Parker, I am a grown man and I know subway is a dangerous place at midnight on Friday.”

Peter grit his teeth and pressed the phone closer to his ear to drown out the screams and sounds of the party.

“You know my abilities, I can take care of myself.”

“Okay, Peter, you never take care of yourself. Just last week you came home with a black eye because you refused to stand up for yourself.”

The boy blushed: “Bullies and criminals are a different thing. Seriously, Tony, see, I’m using your name, the 22nd makes a stop just by the Tower, I’ll be find!”

“Yes, kid, I heard you using my name but that makes no difference. Peter, I honestly, with good conscience can’t let you ride the sub. You’re a pretty young man, anything can happen.”

Peter sighed and knew the battle was lost. With the arousal of MeToo- movement came the numerous stories and Tony was shocked at how many places in New York were unsafe for underage men. Since then, Tony had been borderline paranoid of the safety of Peter and Pepper and was extremely close to hiring bodyguards for his boy. 

“Just sit tight, I’ll be there in twenty or so, okay?”

Half an hour later Peter outside, leaning on the stone fence and waiting for his ride. If he had taken the sub, he would be watching television, most likely eating ice cream in a warm room and not freezing his ass off.

A boy walked out of the house and took a place next to him. The nodded in hello and Peter estimated him to be about two years older than him. He had jet black hair, dark eyes and was wearing a leather jacket, the kind Tony had in his closet so yes, either the boy was very fashion knowledgeable or loaded with money.

“You want one?” The stranger offered a cigarette and Peter shook his head. He could not stand the smell of cigarettes, they made him nauseous. Luckily they were on open air and the wind was blowing away from him. 

“How come I have not seen you before?” 

Peter offered a small smile: “I’m a sophomore, Cindy and I are no decathlon team.”

The stranger’s eyes widened: “Oh, yes, now I know you! Man, you are fucking smart, every senior knows about the great Peter Parker!”

Peter blushed, he was not good with attention.

“Why are you here alone?”

He shrugged: “Waiting for a ride, a friend promised to pick me up.”

The boy nodded but looked a bit disappointed: “You should stay, we were about to do jello shots.”

Peter smiled tightly: “Sorry, I don’t drink.”

“It’s okay, I get it, I didn’t drink either until I turned seventeen.”

That was a first, Peter rarely met anyone who was alright with his decision to stay drug-free. He had promised Tony to wait until he came of age. 

The wind blew stronger and he shivered. The stranger frowned.

“You cold?”

Peter blushed again: “No- I-“

The other wrapped his arm around his shoulders. It was a weird gesture, especially since they barely knew each other. Maybe it felt alright to the other boy since his reasoning and senses were dulled but Peter was anxious.

Yes, it felt nice to be near someone, especially a boy who was so good looking and warm.

“You’re cute.”

Peter blushed harder and lowered his gaze.

“Aww, don’t hide, I like your eyes.”

He chuckled and raised his head: “I get that a lot.”

“Is your hair really so curly?”

“Yep, a pain in the ass, really, you should see me in the morning, it’s untamable.”

Peter realized a second too late what he had said and that he had given a smile when saying it.

The stranger leaned over, his fingers drawing patterns on the boy’s shoulder and lips hovering over his.

“No, stop,” Peter leaned away.

“What?”

“It’s,” Peter gulped. “I don’t like this.”

“Sorry, I thought-“

“No, it’s okay-“

“Peter!”

A car was parked in front of them, with Tony peering out from the driver’s seat. The stranger jumped farther away but then squinted his eyes.

“Is that-“

“Sorry, gotta go!” Peter kissed him on the cheek and practically ran to open the passenger side door and leaped to the car. Tony glared at the stranger and debated on the plan of action.

“Do I need to choke a bitch?”

Peter shook his head: “No, just go, okay?”

Tony obeyed the soft command. 

The car ride is spent in silence. Peter only speaks up when the Tower is in sight.

“I can’t kiss anyone on the lips. On the cheek, yeah, that works, but on the mouth-“ He grimaces, “It’s so yucky.”

Tony can’t sympathize. 

“Will it ever go away?”

The man shrugs: “Maybe, maybe not, either way, it’s okay.”

The words don’t diminish Peter’s worries.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So yeah, kissing has always been a problem for me. I have always seen it dirty and generally, I hate saliva and bodily extracts. I have always been extremely confused because because yeah, I can kiss other parts of body but mouth is just no no. Honestly, it's so gross. With women it's a bit easier but men generally- no. I have only enjoyed kissing a few people in my life and I was pretty drunk back then.


	5. 5. Poisoned

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Peter get his stomach pumped

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have always wanted to write a scene like this and now I had the chance

“Are you sure you want to stay?” The doctor asked, suspicion in her eyes. “It won’t be pretty.”

Tony grasped Peter’s hand tighter and nodded. The boy was laying out cold on the examination table, hooked up on heart monitor and oxygen mask over his face.

Peter had been crying and begging him to stay as he was put under. He had been so scared.

The woman removed the oxygen mask, Peter’s breaths were labored. The drugs were starting to affect his nervous system. With a frown but practiced ease, she inserted a slim tube up Peter’s nose, down until it reached stomach.

“I’m just going to-“the doctor injected air through the tube with a stethoscope over Peter’s stomach.

“It’s good?” Tony confirmed and the woman nodded.

“Now I’ll start the procedure.”

Witnessing stomach pumping was now an item Tony could cross off his bucket list. One had been done on him during the wild 80s and frankly, he had no memory of the incident.

“Do you mind me asking-“ the doctor sprayed the boy’s stomach with saline solution and drained it out through the same tube “What happened?”

The man looked at the mess that was forced out of Peter’s stomach, the color was sickening.

“It was a pure accident,” Tony rubbed his face and set a hand on Peter’s back: the boy breathed in and out, unaware of his surroundings. “He had a headache and took too many pills.”

The woman nodded and hummed, objective but uneasy. She had seen various patients during her career and had grown savvy at recognizing hidden signs.

“He is enhanced so he needs to take a considerable amount of any medicine to require gastric lavage.”

“He usually takes over the counter medication,” Tony was quick to rush into his kid’s defense, tone sharp and he stroked Peter’s knuckles with his thumb. “I did not tell him the ones we synthetize for him are much more potent.”

“Shouldn’t he have been aware?”

“He is a kid!”

“I am not here to issue blame, I only want to help,” The doctor inspects the results, the color still is not clear. “But the truth is, Peter overdosed and my duty as a doctor is to get the facts and make sure it was not deliberate.”

Tony shook his head: “I don’t believe it, he was so scared when he realized he could not walk straight and the world started spinning.”

At the moment, Peter gave a choking sound and started throwing up, in his sleep, with no way to make sure his airway stayed clear. Tony gasped in alarm and stood up, supporting the boy with hands over his back and shoulder, making sure he remained on his side and did not fall off.

“It’s okay, Pete,” The man whispered as the woman took a suction tube and shoved it down the boy’s throat. “Just let it out. We’ll help you.”

Peter gagged and gave a strangled sound as the tube hindered his breathing. The noise froze Tony’s heart.

“What is that?” His voice was panicked. “What is happening?”

The doctor’s lips tightened and she removed the tube: “This is normal, a nasty side-effect. Sometimes the patient starts vomiting, I needed to make sure it does not reach his lungs or else we risk pneumonia.”

The kid was clearly on a quest to kill him, probably from a stroke.

What seemed like hours later, the woman deemed the operation successful and Peter was moved on a clean bed with oxygen mask over his face and IV dripping nutrients and liquids. He was still asleep when rolled to a recovery room and settled into monitors. Oxygen mask was replaced with nasal cannula.

“There,” Tony said softly as he took a spare blanket and spread it over his prone form. Peter’s chest was rising up and down, nice and deep, the drugs no longer being metabolized and endangering basic life support.

He grasped the boy’s hand and gave it a gentle squeeze. Peter did not return it, deep in slumber land.


	6. 6. Betrayed

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Peter loses a friend

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ned is OOC here, I love him but this is a personal piece. This happened to me and it took years to recover.

“Thank you for coming so quickly,” May opened the door and ushered Tony in, Happy followed behind him.

“Oh course,” The dark haired man shrugged off his jacket and hung it over his arm. “Is he in his room?”

May nodded with tears in his eyes.

“It’s so bad- I don’t know what to do. He won’t speak to me-“

Tony set a reassuring hand on her shoulder.

“I’ll talk to him and see what’s going on.”

Peter is lying on his bed, his face towards the wall. Tony is silent as he stands, waits for the boy to acknowledge his presence but the words never come. He walks closer and leans over.

“Peter?”

The boy sniffs wetly. Tony could see his eyes were red rimmed.

“Oh, kid,” he sat down on the bed, a hand gripping his arm gently. “Are you okay?”

Peter shakes his head: “What does God have against me?”

Tony did not know how to answer the question.

“Your Aunt told me you had a complete breakdown at school.”

“I won’t go back there,” Peter’s response is immediate.

“Why?” Tony’s question is confused. He has numerous times offered Peter a chance to get transferred but the boy had denied it, saying dealing with Flash was not so bad. “What did that shithead do?”

“Nothing.”

“What do you mean nothing?” The man’s tone gets sharper and his grip tighter. “Peter, the school nurse told you were screaming your head off. You broke three windows and-“

“It was Ned.”

It was not the answer he was expecting.

“Ned?” Tony blinks. “Your guy in the chair.”

“Not anymore,” Peter curls into himself. “He betrayed me.”

No, Tony’s mind could not comprehend it. He had heard so much of the boy. Peter and him were inseparable. There was no way Ned would do anything to hurt Peter.

“Maybe it was a misunderstanding. Rhodey and I- We have fought numerous times and always manage to work things out-“

“Ned told me he never liked me. He was only friends because I am so good at natural sciences and he needed the help to keep his GPA high. Now he no longer takes the class and has no need for me.”

The words are said monotonously, like it was a decades old memory, a fact which no longer hurt. 

Tony’s mind is running overtime- trying to make sense of the situation. Ned and Peter were no longer friends. Ned had never been his boy’s friend.

“I am all alone again,” Peter whispered and started crying. “I am never going back to Midtown!”

The man leaned over his kid: “You are not going there again, I’ll make sure of it. This- I’m so sorry, Peter.”

He could no nothing but hold the boy as he cried in hurt, humiliation and depression.

Peter had been walking a very thin wire for a long time. May and Tony had been aware how fragile Peter’s mind was after witnessing his Uncle’s murder and becoming a Superhero, a mutant. They had hoped more pain could be avoided but high school was no picnic, especially for a kid like Peter, so naïve and trusting.

“Okay,” Tony said eventually, when tears were drying out and Peter had blown his nose on his handkerchief. “I got you an appointment with a psychiatrist, she has years of experience dealing with adolescents. You remember our deal?”

Peter nodded as he recalled a day about two months ago when he had had his first breakdown. Luckily, that had happened at home. He had managed to avoid getting professional help but now, he would welcome any means to help deal with pain.

“Good,” Tony ruffled his hair fondly. “Go with Happy to wait in the car, put on some good music.”

As soon as Peter is out the door and far enough that he can’t hear a thing, Tony sighs and rests his body on the back of the couch.

“I am going to the school tomorrow,” The man rubs his face, exhausted emotionally. “Have him transferred, get tuition back and such.”

May nods as she puts on her coat: “I can’t believe it’s actually happening. I honestly thought he would graduate there.”

“It’s not the school that is the problem, it’s the kids.”

“What if he has trouble with the new school?”

Tony shrugs: “Then we will deal with it but I can’t imagine it being any worse than now.”

The woman takes her purse and then pauses: “What about Ned? He knows about Spiderman?”

The man crossed his arms: “Leave it to me.”

 

The next morning, Tony Stark walked to the principal’s office and, after thirty minutes of negotiations, they had agreed on Peter dropping out of Midtown High and finishing High School on many of the schools that had showed interest in getting Iron Man’s protégé. Peter had a great selection to choose from as soon as he was mentally sound to pursue education again.

With Peter’s transcripts and health records clutched tightly in Happy’s arms, the pair made their way to Peter’s locker and started piling up books and notes to a cardboard box.

“Mr Stark?”

It was Ned with a Hall Pass in his hands. The man gave him a glare, a big, strong part of him wanted to scream at the kid for what he did to Peter but a reasonable side was louder. He looked back at the locker and took out a history book. He remembered how he and Peter had gone shopping for school supplies. The boy had been so excited.

“These pictures and cards, are these Peter’s or were they glued in before?”

“It’s-“ Ned gulps. “They are Peter’s.”

Tony nods and starts to take them out.

“Why are you taking Peter’s stuff?”

“He is not coming back here,” Tony did not look at the boy.

“What? Why?”

“You actually have the nerve to ask that?” The words slip out before his brain to mouth filter works. 

“You think it is my fault?”

“Then whose fault is it that my kid was diagnosed with severe depression, has to take medication so he does not cut his wrists and is currently on sick leave?”

He had not meant for Ned to know he much he had hurt his family but a part of him wants the boy to feel bad, feel remorse and see the error of his ways.

“I honestly don’t believe he got sick because of me,” Ned’s voice is steady and Tony wants to punch him. Oh, if only the boy were of age.

“Maybe what you did was the last straw.”

“I can’t walk on leaves just because someone has a fragile mind.”

Tony stares at the boy and can’t believe this is the same Ned Peter spoke so highly of. He slams the locker door closed and turns his full attention on the boy.

“Did you ever even care about Peter? Were you pretending to be his friend from the very beginning?”

Ned does not look unapologetic.

“I already said it to Peter, I don’t know anyone who likes him.”

Tony sees red: he can’t believe he forced his kid to go through literal hell on earth. Ned turns to leave, not willing to talk about the boy he betrayed any more.

“Not so fast!”

“I need to get back to class.”

Tony took out folded papers from his pocket: “This is more important. You know many things about Peter and I need to make sure not a word gets around.”

“I’m not an idiot,” Ned scoffs. “Spiderman does important work. I would not jeopardize that!”

“Then you’ll have no problem signing this,” Tony presented him a NDA- form. “I wrote it up but it’s foolproof and legally binding. You will not talk about Peter or Spiderman to anyone, if and when Peter decides to go to college, you will not apply to the same ones-“

“What?”

“-and if you ever tell anything that might be considered a lead to figuring out a link between them, I will sue you for so much that even your greatgrandchildren will be paying the fines.”

All color has drained from Ned’s face.

“You can’t do that!”

“If you don’t sign this, I will have no choice but to tell your principal how you did not complete homework even once last year and copied it off someone else.”

“You have no proof!”

Tony’s smile was predatory and sweet, like a cat that was playing with their future meal: “Really, huh?”

He took out his phone and pressed a button and Ned’s eyes bulged as the recording of yesterday reached his ears.

“How-?”

“It’s relatively easy,” Tony shrugged. “Pete has a Stark Phone, it records everything, a mighty useful feature when you need to confirm something. So, yeah, what will it be- lowered GPA, possible expulsion or signing the form?”

If look could kill, Tony Stark would have died on the hallway.


	7. 9. Stranded

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Peter and Tony crash to the sea

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was inspired by myglassesaredirty's fic Oceans (Where Feet May Fail) , this was how I hoped it would have continued but as it, that fic is amazing.

The crash was sudden, it disrupted the peace. A smoke trail lingered on in the air as the waves smothered the flames building on the private plane.

“Peter!” 

The sea was mostly calm, the only disruption came from the metal bird starting to sink.

“Kid, answer me!” 

Tony looked around, he had a bleeding wound on his head that sea salt lathered. The man spat out water and his breathing was turning hysterical.

“Peter!”

The boy was nowhere in sight.

“No,” Tony shook his head and gripped his hair, his feet kicking to keep him afloat. “No, please, no!”

He had made sure Peter got out first but had lost sight of him. The water had been so dark. He had thought the boy was next to him but now-

“Mr Stark!”

His heart nearly leaped out of his chest. Peter was swimming towards him, hair disheveled and breathing heavily.

“I’m sorry! The current took me! I tried to get back but-“

Tony met him halfway and, despite the peril they were in, floating in the sea, he wrapped his arms around the boy.

“Don’t ever scare me like that again!”

Peter nodded and shivered against his chest and Tony also started to notice his body beginning to rebel. 

“C’mon, kid, we need to find land, there should be an island nearby.”

Peter was not a strong swimmer, a city boy through and through, and despite the lessons Tony had given him during their trips to Malibu and the Bahamas, he was exhausted before they reached dry land.

“Just a little bit more,” he coaxed as Peter spat out water and forced his limbs to move. “C’mon, buddy, I’ll help you.”

Tony considered it a victory that Peter sunk below the surface only once and it happened twenty feet before they reached the island.

“Nope!” He grabbed the boy by the t shirt he was wearing and lifted him up like a kitten. “None of that now!”

Peter sputtered and his eyes snapped open.

“Did I-“

“Briefly,” Tony’s response was curt and pointed to a palm tree. “You see that? That is your goal, you don’t get to fall asleep until you reach it.”

Baby steps, the man told himself as he helped the boy and together they made their way out of the water and onto land. Peter took a step, then another and collapsed on the foot of the tree. Tony followed suit, coughing and breathing in air while thumping an open palm on the boy’s back. The sand was dry and blessedly warm and it clung to their wet clothes and faces. 

“I’m okay,” Peter muttered, voice thick and tired.

“Cough a bit for me, okay? You might have some water in your lungs.”

He pressed an ear to the boy’s back, mostly to listen for any abnormal sounds but also to lend warmth and tell himself they were both alive and well.

Peter was starting to relax and turn into heavy weight.

“Hey!” Tony slapped the boy’s face. “No! We don’t fall asleep yet!”

Peter opened his eyes and pouted, honest to God, pouted: “But you said-“

“Change of plans, we need a fire.”

All the equipment was lost in the sea and there was no way they could retrieve any of it without scuba gear. Luckily, during his time with the Avengers, Tony had learned a trick or two about survival. While Peter gathered wood, he started a fire.

“Wow!” Peter stared at the cute, small flame with an open mouth. 

“I amaze even myself sometimes,” The man basked in the glory and motioned at the pile in the boy’s arms. Peter faltered slightly.

“I hope these are alright. I have never been camping so I don’t know about what kind of wood you need- if it needs to be specific or-“

“This will do, the main criterion is dryness,” he added the branches. The flame could not grow soon enough. 

The warmth of the sun had dried their clothes partly but left them hard and stinky.

“How long do you reckon we need to be here?”

Tony shrugged: “Not for long, I hope. I sent a distress signal and the plane is programmed to give the crash data.”

“We should set some sort of a sign.”

“True,” the man nodded. “But first, we need food.”

Their dinner consists of coconuts, mangoes and oysters.

“I have never had oysters before.”

“Are you sure you want to try, kid? If you have an anaphylatic shock-“

“The chance for that is minimal.”

Tony had half a mind to fish but the lack of equipment might have proved it too manual a task. In other words, their dinner was meager, tasty but lacking nutrients. But Peter does not complain, he is too focused to try and light another fire.

“Kid, there is no need for that,” Tony commented as he started building a shelter.

“What if that one burns out?”

“Are you questioning my caveman skills?”

“No, but what if there is a gust of wind or rain or-“

“You do realize those would affect your fire too?” 

“It might be a localized event.”

Tony did not even bother to hide the amused smile as he watched Peter try and fail, spewing cute little swear words every now and then like ‘bollocs’ or ‘bugger’. How he wished he had his camera. 

They had just light the signal fire in case Rhodey or someone else, but let’s face it, it was going to be Rhodey, flew over them during the night. 

“You know,” Peter took a drink from the coconut and licked his lips. “If we don’t count the cold and poor nutrition, this might actually be a fun little holiday.”

“Oh yeah?” Tony smirked and gulped down an oyster. “You like danger?”

“No, but I am so used to it I have developed immunity.”

Tony scowled at the boy who had enough reason to chuckle with embarrassment.

Their shelter is small and tight but at least it ensures bodily warmth.

“Mr Stark, what if we are not found?”

Tony wrapped his arms around Peter and pulled him closer against his chest.

“Of course we are found, tomorrow, I bet you.”

“Yeah, but, what if we are stranded here forever? Like in Blue Lagoon?”

Tony groaned: “Oh, kid, couldn’t you have said Cast Away or something else? You know I had the biggest crush on Brooke Shields.”

Peter hummed: “She was awfully hot.”

Tony flicked him up the head: “Hey, none of that. I will not have you get a hard on when sleeping with me!”

The boy blushed heavily: “But you started it!”

“No, I did not.”

They were quiet for a moment, letting the tension diminish.

“But seriously, I would build a killer tree house.”

Rhodey found them the next day while they are attempting to catch fish for lunch. Peter shrieked in joy and jumped in place, waving his arms and running to the plane as it   
landed.

“Look at that!” Rhodey gaped at the shelter and the homemade spear Tony had in his hands, Peter hanging on the dark man’s waist. “You two seem to have it pretty good!”

“Yes, and you just had to come in and ruin the fun!”

Peter mouthed ‘no’ and shook his head vehemently, worried Rhodey might leave them here. But Tony stepped forward and embraced his friend.

“You both okay?” Rhodey spoke against his shoulder.

“Yeah,” Tony nodded. “Lightly bruised but otherwise unharmed.”

They were both wrapped in blankets and given a bottle of water.

“Small sips, kid,” Tony warned the boy before he could chug down half of the contents. “Trust me on this.”

“I always trust you,” Peter said, with so much devotion and innocence that Tony couldn’t but pull him against his side, lips planting a soft kiss on his brow.

“Yeah, back at you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I seriously had Tony say to Peter "If you feel me getting hard during the night, it's not you, it's Brooke" but I feared that line might provoke too much anger :D


	8. 10. Bruises

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Peter has bruises that are a symptom of something much more serious

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Honestly, in every other fandom I have partaken in cancer fics were one of the most popular ones. I am shocked when I checked the tag, I found barely any fics.

“Where did you get these?” Tony asked, his hands hovering over a set of bruises near Peter’s tailbone. The boy reached his neck to see.

“I don’t know,” He shrugged, upper body bare for taking measurements. His suit had been getting loose and his mentor wanted to ensure he had the right fit. 

“Huh,” The man hummed and rolled back on his chair. “That is strange?”

Tony licked his lips and grabbed the measuring tape.

“Any other symptoms I should know about?” He asked conversationally though Peter, nearly an expert in Stark Studies, could tell there was an underline of worry.

“Nothing much,” The boy answered as Tony wrapped the tape around his waist and fastened it to get the reading. “Nothing weirder than usual.”

“You have lost weight,” The man stated and fed the figures to the computer. “I hope you have not started any diets.”

“No, I-“ Peter had to think. He had not had much of an appetite lately. But it was the time for tests, it was already December and they were getting their report cards in two weeks.

Tony seemed to read his mind.

“Keep an eye on those,” He nodded his head towards the black marks. “It’s most likely nothing serious but unexplainable bruises should be tested.”

A week goes by and Peter comes to work on the lab. Tony is working on the latest version of Iron Man suit but lifts his gaze as the boy steps through the door. His eyes widen at the sight: Peter is pale and wearing a sweatshirt that looks too big on him.

“What the hell, kid?” His concern explodes in rough language. Tony drops the scolding iron, DUM-E picks it up, and the man runs to the boy. 

“Peter,” Hands press against the boy’s face and move to his forehead and neck, checking for fever. “You look like a dead man walking!”

Peter’s eyes are dull and he wavers in place: “I- I started feeling bad at school.”

“You have a fever,” Tony’s voice is almost a whisper as he takes Peter’s hand between his own, rubbing the fingers to bring comfort. “C’mon, you need drink and then you can-“

The words die in his mouth as he catches dark under the boy’s sleeve. He lifts the garment and sees a bruise, fresh and painful.

“What- when did you get this?”

Peter looked at his hand and his breathing quickens.

“Mr Stark- I- I think I’m gonna pass out-“

The boy’s eyes rolled into his skull. Tony gave a sound of alarm and caught him, Peter’s head lolling lifelessly.

“Peter, Peter,” Tony kept saying the name like a mantra, he sank to his knees, cradling the feverish boy in his arms. “Buddy, wake up,” He slapped Peter’s face repeatedly, urging the boy to open his eyes. He got no response.

DUM-E rolled closer just as Tony got it into his head to lay his mentee down to ensure his vitals. He had no patience for the droid.

“What the hell are you staring at?” The man screamed. “Go get water, make yourself useful!”

Peter was breathing nice and deep and his pulse echoed steadily, Tony heard it all on laying his head on the boy’s chest. And his fever was not too high to prove a threat to consciousness. Maybe the boy had forgotten to keep up with his metabolism.

“Peter, hey, bud, open your eyes,” Tony rubbed his knuckles on the boy’s sternum, it was said to be a foolproof method and he had witnessed Bruce do it several times. Just as 

Peter’s eyelids began to flutter, the droid returned with bottle, dropping it near Tony’s knees and rolling away in shame. Tony did not have time to feel sorry or regret his words. 

He opened the cap and opened the cold water on Peter’s forehead.

“Gah!” The boy’s eyes snapped open as water dripped down to his nose and mouth. Peter coughed and his gaze wandered around the ceiling. “What- where-“

He managed to sit up before Tony could stop him. 

“Woah, easy,” the man cried out as the brown eyes glazed over again. “Hang in there, kid,” he poured more water on him and supported his neck.

“Mr Stark, what-“

“Shh, no talking yet, okay,” Tony rocked him back and forth and brought the bottle to Peter’s lips. “Small sips, okay.”

Peter turned his head away, a grimace on his lips.

“Peter, you just fainted in my lab, I think your decision making has been overruled.”

The boy braved himself, opened his lips and Tony poured a bit of water into his mouth. Peter swallowed, fearing it would come straight back. Nothing.

Peter shivered in his arms and Tony wiped his face dry with his sleeve the best he could and planted a kiss on the curly mop of hair.

 

 

Two hours later they have diagnosis.

Acute myelogenous leukemia or AML.

Peter did not cry at the diagnosis, Aunt May did it for him, silent and with hand grasping Peter’s. Tony ran his hands through his dark hair and wanted to scream. He walked out the room during the doctor giving them basic information about the disease: occurs more commonly in adults than children and in men than women. 

“Mr Stark,” the doctor called after him but he did not stop until he reached the end of the hallway.

He punched the wall and shouted. Peter could still hear him but he hopes the boy is in too deep a shock to pay attention to anything but his mind.

He should have noticed. All the symptoms matched leukemia. How long had Peter been suffering? 

If he had taken Peter to medbay the minute he saw the bruises-

Was Peter going to die?

“Survival rate is around 40%-“

No, that could not be. He would not lose Peter. He refused to give him up. 

Tony pushed the panic attack to die, he did not have time for hyperventilation and nausea. He was already making a list, he needed to call people, Peter’s school had to be notified, adjustments to the Queens apartment- there was an endless list of chores and he filed them into imaginary maps.

He could manage it but first- 

Tony stepped back into the room, giving the doctor none of his attention and directing all his care and love to the boy on the bed. He set a hand on Peter’s head.

“What is the treatment?”

 

A week later chemotherapy starts. 

“A week in bed,” Peter groans as the IV is set. The treatment was 7+3; A week of continuous drip of Cytarabine and for the first three days also Daunorubicin.

“You can watch all the television you want,” Tony looked up from where he was reading about the latest medical research papers dealing with leukemia and treatments. “Netflix binges, you like those right.”

“No,” Peter sniffs.

“You can move around if you feel up to it,” the nurse offers with a sympathetic smile.

“With my luck, I will be puking my brains out,” the boy whispers.

The first hour goes without hitch and the second hour too. The duo has just finished the first Harry Potter movie (something light that does not require brain cells), when Peter speaks up.

“I feel a little sick.”

Tony, who had been lying on the bed beside Peter, straightens up alarmed.

“Do you need a bucket?”

Peter rubs his stomach: “No, but do we have crackers or something?”

“Something salty? I have chips?”

Peter does not dig into the snack like usual, he takes the salted slices one after another, biting down carefully, tending to his aching stomach. Tony can’t focus on the movie, his mind and the side eye are on Peter. How his kid grows paler by the minute.

A gag.

He grabs a bucket and puts it under the boy’s chin just in time. Stomach acids burn Peter’s throat as his muscles contract.

“It’s over,” the bout does not last but ten seconds. “I’m good.”

“You sure?”

“Yeah, I-“ Peter nods and leans against the pillows. “It’s over now.”

The boy is a champ, Tony has to admit. He is pale and shaky but does not vomit the entire day.

The next day, however, he refused to eat anything.

“Maybe a Popsicle,” May bribed him but Peter shook his head. He was lying in a fetal position, with arms around his stomach.

“It hurts,” He groaned softly and Tony rubbed his back, the same spot puncture had been performed a week before.

“You want me to call a nurse?”

“No,” Peter shook his head and tried to appear stronger than he was. Tony wanted to shake him, tell that he was allowed to cry and be selfish, he was allowed the same care everyone else was.

“They can give you pain meds-“

“I’m okay,” the boy said pointedly and with a trembling hand, took the raspberry Popsicle his Aunt offered.

A week could not be over fast enough. Peter’s condition varied from hour to hour, from day to day. Tony lost count of the times he held crying boy over the bucket as he threw up. One day, he had taken Peter to the hospital’s play room and had spent an afternoon entertaining the other kids there.

He was going to miss that chance once the MedBay was improved to care for a cancer patient. 

Since Peter’s immunity system was more effective than normal, he was allowed to go to school once his condition improved, provided that he maintained good hygiene. Ned was ever so supportive, he had visited Peter every day during his chemotherapy, even if sometimes the boy had not been well enough for visitors. The Decathlon team had sent a card and flowers with a box of chocolates.

The next round of chemo was done at the Tower. By now, Peter had been prescribed pills to prevent nausea but it still did not bring back his appetite. 

The boy lost weight. His clothes hung on his frame and the baby fat on his cheeks disappeared. Peter was cold and suffered from ongoing mild fever. By the end of the week,   
Tony had made the arrangements to have Peter home schooled. He cut back on lab time drastically and instead spent it with going over sophomore year curriculum. Peter was as bright as ever, eager to learn but tired easily. Sitting on kitchen chairs hurt his back so all the work was done on the bed.

“Here come some refreshments,” Peter was interrupted from his biology work by Tony entering with a tray and an assortment of fruits. The boy smiled softly and moved the book away.

“Thanks,” Peter took the glass of OJ and sipped. Tony took a seat on the bed.

“What do you feel like having today?”

Peter looked over the selection: “Blueberries,” he pointed to a small cup.

“Good choice, mild for the stomach, there have been several studies about their positive effect.”

Peter nodded and popped the first one into his mouth. Tony’s eyes scrutinized his face, peering into his eyes.

“How do you feel? Is the temperature okay?”

The boy hummed, the man had been adamant his room being warm and comfortable. Tony was silent for moment.

“It feels a bit chilly, doesn’t it? Let me just-“

“Mr Stark, it’s okay.”

The man paused, his phone remaining in his hand.

“I just want you to be comfortable, kiddo.”

“I know,” Peter grabbed the man’s hand with his. “I am, trust me.”

“You never tell me if you hurt or something is wrong. And I am too thick to see it.”

“None of this is your fault.”

Tony did not say anything, just grabbed his hand and squeezed it.

The next morning, Tony woke up to a scream.

Peter.

Horrible thoughts ran through his head as he got up and sprinted through the hall to the boy’s room. He opened the door and saw Peter, sitting on his bed, with tears in his eyes and staring at brown locks on the pillow and mattress.

Peter’s hair fell off.

“Help me,” Peter sobbed and Tony stepped closer. There were bald spots all over Peter’s scalp and the remaining hair looked unhealthy and dull, nothing like the vibrant color and bouncy curls he remembered.

“Oh, buddy,” He drew the boy into his chest and Peter let out a whine.

“Cry if you feel like it,” Tony rocked them back and forth, his arms protectively wrapped around his boy. “It helps.”

It took nearly an hour to get Peter to calm down and by then, they had come to a decision. 

“It’s better to take it all off,” Peter wiped tears from his eyes, dark resolution hanging over his words. “Better than having to wake up to this every morning.”

Tony cut off all of the hair, shedding a tear or two in silence, until there was nothing left but dry scalp. Peter hung cloths over all the mirrors in his room, too distraught to face the ugly truth. He offered to buy Pete a wig but the boy shook his head. He spent the rest of the day in bed.

Third round of chemo was hard but a routine. Sometimes Peter got cravings and Tony and May were ready to fulfill them. Ned visited them and Tony took pictures, relishing in the real smile Peter had on his face. On good moments, they worked on studies or blueprints for the suits. Tony had neglected his work for months, Peter took all of his attention. May was needed at work, he had offered to talk to the head of the personnel to get May a leave but the woman had a strong work ethic. She lived in the Tower with 

Peter but still felt the need to actually do something other than worry.

“And who knows, maybe one of the doctors there comes up with some brilliant cure and I overhear it.”

Nevertheless, Tony was Peter’s primary caretaker, a task that he took more seriously than anything in his life. He made sure the boy was fed and warm, helped him through nasty side-effects, never once complaining how much having Peter over complicated his life. Peter’s needs were his clock and bible.

One day, the Decathlon team visited, bringing another card and flowers. Peter thanked them profusely and they in turn complimented the scarf that covered his baldness. With Ned, he cared not the hair loss but with people he was not as close with, his insecurities resurfaced. Everyone was supportive, even Flash who avoided looking at Peter’s eyes until he said: “If someone can beat this, Parker, it is you. I want to win over your spot in the team by my talents, not by lack of white cells.”

Peter smiled with cracked lips.


	9. 12. Electrocution

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Peter gets an Electric Shock and Tony has to help him

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had had this idea in my head for a while now and finally got an excuse to write it.

It was a tradition that Lab music was old time rock and heavy. Thanks to it, Peter knew practically the entire repertoire of Black Sabbath, Metallica and Iron Maiden word for word.

They listened to it sometimes in the car, during longer rides and the boy enjoyed belting out the tunes with as much volume as possible. But in the lab, he sang normally, soft and even, sometimes under breath as he worked on whatever task Tony gave him. 

Today, he was taught how the thrusters worked. After a lesson, Peter was given a job to take the thrusters apart and put them back together to ensure he had learned the basic outline. Tony was a fantastic teacher, much better than the ones at Midtown and sometimes the boy mentioned his mentor should get a degree in education.

“I couldn’t,” Tony had shaken his head at the suggestion. “I would just bore myself to death.”

Peter was content to have a private tutor who was willing to go through subjects and issues time after time.

“You alright there, kid?”

Peter nodded with a screwdriver in hand and another between his lips.

“Just tell me if you need help.”

Peter hummed in response just as he knocked over a toolbox. The boy slumped in his chair and looked at his mentor.

“Mr Stark, I need help.”

The man chuckled, his hands working on another Spider-Man suit: “That you do, Pete.”

The boy growled got to his knees. One of the tools had rolled behind a large generator and he squeezed into the space between the appliance and the wall.

Tony was in the process of connecting the wires when there was a loud BANG and the lights went off. 

“Wow, kid, you never do anything half assed.”

A moment later the lights came back and the white noise returned. The man turned his head to the boy and frowned when he noticed Peter was not moving.

“Kid?” He asked and got up. “Did you hurt yourself?”

No response.

“Shit,” The man breathed out when he got a look at the boy: Peter’s hands had burn marks and tree like scars traveled up his arms. “Shit, shit, shit!”

The electric cords- he had not checked their condition- they were worn by time and had given Peter, his kid, a shock.

He pulled Peter out by his legs and turned him onto his back.

“Kid,” Tony knelt down and shook the boy by the shoulders. “Wake up, please tell me you’re okay.”

Peter’s eyes were closed and he looked like he was asleep, his mouth was slightly open.

“Oh God, I- I can’t remember what,” His hands hovered over the boy. “Pulse, yes, that.”

He placed his fingers on the neck and tried to feel for a vein, for a thump.

Nothing.

“FRIDAY!” Tony shouted in panic. “Call medic, call anyone, Peter has no pulse!”

“Calling for medical services. Estimated arrival is in 5 minutes.”

“That’s too long!”

“You need to help. CPR is proven to be effective in cardiac arrest cases.”

CPR, yes, Tony knew the word, he knew the science behind it but he had never done it on a person. He had taken the course, yes, and on a normal day could recite the practice by heart but now, he forgot everything. Peter was lying on the ground, his cells dying by the minute, Tony could barely remember his legal name.

“I can’t remember how it is done!”

He was letting down his kid, his protégé who never turned down a chance to help. Tears stung in his eyes and panic was starting to take over.

“I will help you, sir. First you need to start compressions; by the newest guidelines you should do 30 of them.”

Tony sniffed and nodded.

“Okay,” he bent over the Peter and after a millisecond of hesitation, grabbed the boy’s blue button up shirt and ripped it open. He would replace it. He placed his hands over the kid’s sternum and started pressing down, feeling sickened but fascinated how Peter’s bones gave.

“The rhythm needs to be faster, try it to the beat of Another One Bites the Dust.”

“Fuck you,” Tony spat under his breath but still did as his AI told. The body beneath him jerked with each compression. Peter’s stomach bulged each time his chest was pressed down.

“Thirty,” Tony muttered and his hands moved Peter’s head. He placed his left palm over the boy’s forehead and right to his chin and tilted his head back.

“Sir, rescue breaths are no longer recommended practice unless the patient is asphyxiated-“

Tony was at the end of his patience.

“He is a fucking kid! He needs air!”

“In the manuals, Peter is considered an adult and with adult cardiac arrest cases-.”

“Shut up!” He shouted and pinched Peter’s nose closed. Tony bent down and breathed deeply into the boy’s mouth.

“C’mon , kiddo,” the man tapped Peter’s face as the air was exhaled. “C’mon, c’mon, breathe for me.”

He breathed again, pressing his lips tightly against the boy’s.

Tony straightened and crossed his hands on Peter’s chest, pressing down rhythmically.

“C’mon, Pete, I know you’re still in there,” The man muttered under breath, words rushed and accompanied with the grunts as each compression forced air in and out of the boy’s lungs. 

“It was just a little shock, a little bit of electricity, you can deal with that, right,” Tony wanted to cry at how Peter’s face was turning gray, losing all of the healthy color.

“It’s not helping, FRI!” He gave a half sob.

“It’s helping, sir, maybe not immediately but you are keeping him alive until rescuers arrive with defibrillator.”

What, Tony nearly paused but completed the compressions.

“Defib- FRIDAY, do we have a defibrillator?”

“Yes, sir: in the med bay, gym and the lab’s kitchenette.”

The man nearly fell over as he hurried to his feet. He ran to the corner where there was a sink, a mini fridge and a smoothie maker. 

“Next to the first aid kit, sir.”

“FRIDAY, when this is over you are getting some serious reprogramming!” Tony snapped as he grabbed the yellow box with a red cross on the front.

“I’ll put that on the memo, sir.”

The man did not heed the comment as he practically leaped across the room.

“It’s okay, kid,” He dropped onto his knees and opened the case. “Soon you’ll feel better.”

This phase was easier since the device came with information and detailed steps what to do.

“Okay, so,” Tony took a pad and read the text. “This one up here,” he placed the sticker over Peter’s left breast and the other on the side by his heart. He turned on the machine while keeping a monologue to keep his nerves intact.

“Charging, analyzing heart rhythm.”

The man used the chance to give a rescue breath; he had forgotten to complete the cycle.

“I’m sorry, Pete,” Tony apologized for everything and nothing.

“Stay clear of the patient.”

Reluctantly, Tony crawled farther away but not before giving Peter a kiss on the brow.

“See you soon.”

“Shock advised.”

Tony pressed the big button and with a metallic sound, Peter’s chest jolted up and his hands twitched.

“Continue CPR.”

The man felt the sick urge to laugh how a simple cardiac machine showed more compassion and tact than an AI he had designed. He continued the cycle, hearing Peter’s ribs snap which was a small price to pay if his heart got back into normal rhythm. 30 compressions were quick to complete, all the while he muttered urges to the boy.

“You pain in the ass, you little shit, breathe!” Tony screamed at Peter’s face and gave mouth to mouth. The air from his lungs rose Peter’s chest, the only movement the body gave. 

Another shock was delivered. The boy’s pulse did not return to normal but he was starting to show signs of coming back. He was gasping with no air entering his lungs and Tony felt his own heart starting to beat faster.

“That’s it, kiddo,” He cradled the boy’s face between his hands. “C’mon, work with me here.”

“Sir, it is advisable to administer another shot.”

The boy’s Adam’s apple was bopping up and down as primitive reflexes took over.

Tony nodded at the AI’s guides.

“Alright,” He straightened up and charged the machine.

“Stay clear of the patient.”

A shock and-

“Normal sinus-rhythm detected.”

Tony could have cried with joy. Peter’s eyelids started fluttering and his fingers were twitching.

“It’s okay, Pete,” The man closed his protégé’s nose and gave a rescue breath. “You are fine now, just breathe for me, okay.”

Peter’s head moved from side to side, searching for the owner of the voice. Tony cradled his face and breathed for him. 

“Is this normal, FRI?” He asked when the boy did not start breathing properly.

“It’s perfectly normal, his body is still in shock. Continue artificial ventilation.”

Tony had his lips locked with the boy’s when Peter started coughing, his back arching up from the floor, eyes wide with fear. The man felt like all the years he had lost when he found Peter practically dead slammed back into him.

“Petey,” The tears Tony had been holding back started flowing freely down his face. He lifted the boy into his lap and cuddled him: not one of the many side hugs that had become a standard during movie nights with Peter curled up by his side, no. He held the boy tightly, like a parent their lost child or a child their teddy bear after a terrifying nightmare. The boy’s cough was intense, dry and unrelenting.

“You’re alright,” He rocked the boy back and forth, kissing his temple, one arm around his back and the other tangled in his curly hair. “You’re okay, baby, just breathe for me. Keep breathing for me, Petey.”

Peter’s gaze wandered around the lab, from tables to droids.

“Wha-“ He was cut off by a cough. Tony rubbed his chest and shushed him. 

“Relax, kid ,” He cooed and a set a kiss on the boy’s hair. “You got a bit hurt.”

“Why- why am I here- what-“ Peter asked with confusion, words slurring into each other. He sounded the same as when he had concussion and Tony had had to wake him up hourly to measure his state of alertness. But that had been because of a direct blow to the head.

“You don’t remember?” Worry dominated Tony’s voice and Peter shook his head.

“No,” his voice was small and he gave a small sob. The man immediately pulled him closer.

“It’s okay,” He whispered into Peter’s ear and rubbed his shoulder reassuringly. 

“Mr Stark…” Peter turned his face to his mentor’s chest and started crying, Tony could not blame the kid. He was certainly in pain, confused, nauseous and him freaking out and acting so out of character most likely did not help.

But he could not help himself. After a scare like that, Tony was not ready to let go of the boy and addressing him with adoring pet names.

“Shh,” He hushed the boy just as the door to the lab opened, FRIDAY’s doing as nobody outside of his small inner circle had the access code to his workshop. Medics rushed in with their bags and a stretcher.

“He is okay,” Tony told the closest one, hand in Peter’s hair and shielding him from the outsiders. “He is fine now.”

“Mr Stark, we need to check him over.”

Peter was given an oxygen mask, his values were not great and he was given basic first aid for the burns. Tony felt sick as he looked at his kid’s hands and the wrappings.

“I- I did not think-“

“Mr Stark, you did everything perfectly,” the paramedic smiled at him as they raised the head portion of the stretcher so Peter was lying in a half-sitting position.

“You can thank my AI,” The man nodded his head at the ceiling. “She walked me through it.”

“Still, many people freeze, especially if they must perform CPR on someone close to them. You did amazing.”

Tony always enjoyed praise when it was granted. He was not yet sure if it was. He felt empty and was shaking even though he was sitting down. Peter noticed it and weakly lifted a corner of one of the blankets piled on him.

“Take,” The boy said, weak but desperate. Tony felt like crying again; how had he come across the most selfless kid on the planet.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I might have made FRIDAY a bit mean in this...


	10. 14. Torture

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Let's face it, bullying can have extreme results

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I felt positively sick writing this

It started with a party.

“Here we are,” Tony parked by the curve. Pepper looked at the house.

“That looks nice,” She nodded her head.

“Yeah, nice patio,” The man added. The car windows reflected the lights coming from the windows.

“Thanks,” Peter took off his seat belt and opened the door. The man had given him a ride, a friend from decathlon was holding a party for every sophomore and to Peter’s luck, most students at Midtown High lived near the affluent areas of NYC. That’s what you got with the high tuition. It was like modern Darwinism; don’t have the money, no way to get to school unless you were on a genius on a scholarship like Peter.

“Call me when you want to leave,” Tony leaned over. He and Pepper were going to dinner but dropping Peter off had been no problem.

“I might get a ride from Cindy-“ The boy started, he still felt self-conscious about asking Tony for things, the man already did so much for him.

“If not, call me, okay.”

Peter nodded and waved in goodbye.

The house was so full of people but Peter quickly found his decathlon team mates. He was on alright terms with most of them. Maybe they would be closer but he was shy and yes, being Spiderman did not always allow for a great social life.

Overall, Peter was shocked how much he enjoyed the party.

Until his head started spinning.

“What is it?” MJ asked as Peter took support from the table.

“I- I don’t know- dizzy.”

The feeling left as soon as it came. Maybe it was the stuffy air.

He took more of the punch.

“You sure this has no alcohol?” He asked a boy that he crossed paths with.

“Yeah, the red one is clear.”

From there one, he had no memory of the night. Nothing, nada, there was an empty slot in his mind. The next time he came to, he was lying on the guest room bed, sun shining on his face and the clock striking ten AM.

“Oh shit!” Peter cursed and grabbed his phone: It was a pure miracle it was still in his jean pocket, it was the latest Stark Phone and worth a thousand dollars. He had 20 missed calls from Tony, 3 from Pepper, almost a 100 What’sApp messages.

“Oh God,” he got up and walked to the mirror. He had seen enough bad comedies to look for dick pics on his face but nothing. There was a bad taste in his mouth but that was most likely from going to sleep without brushing his teeth.

Peter debated for a moment whether to call Tony or wait until he got to the Tower but finally decided it was like setting a limb: better to get it over with.

“What the hell, kid!” Tony screamed, actually screamed. “Where the hell have you been?”

“I’m still at the house- I’m so so-“

“Do you have any idea how worried we have been? You didn’t answer your phone! Peter, how dense are you?”

“I fell asleep-“

“Were you drinking? What am I asking, of course, you were, why else would you fall asleep in other house. Oh kid, you are so grounded!”

 

 

Peter was grounded for two weeks: straight home from school, no patrolling, no money, no television, no friends.

On Tuesday there was a rumor at school. Peter was taking his books from locker when Ned ran to him.

“Hey man.”

“Peter,” The bigger boy stopped, eyes wide and slightly pale. “You were at the party last weekend, right.”

“Oh, don’t remind me,” Peter slammed his head against the metal door. “Mr Stark was so pissed off, I have never seen him so angry.”

“Did you- well- what did you do there?”

“Nothing much,” Peter shrugged as they started walking to chemistry class. “Talked to some guys, but- I don’t know what happened but there is a black spot in my memory. I think I might have passed out.”

Ned stopped and Peter hurried to reassure him: “But I am not sure, I thought I was drinking just soda but I got dizzy and- I might have mistaken them for each other.”

“Peter that is serious,” His friend breathed out. “Did you tell Mr Stark?”

“It was impossible to get a word in and I have asked people. They said I acted quite normal so my reputation is still about the same.”

Ned debated with his conscience for a while.

“Peter- I heard there are- pictures.”

The boy blanched: “What do you mean?”

He got the answer during chemistry. Students were snickering behind him and sharing something on their phones.

“Penis Parker,” Flash whispered to him and laughed quietly.

In history, he was sent a note: it was nothing but a drawn penis.

“Really,” He muttered under his breath and repeated the word to the boys behind him.

He saw Ned during gym class.

“I need to get those pictures,” They took their normal lockers in the dressing room and began to change into required gear.

“How do you propose to do it?”

“I don’t know,” Peter shrugged, his body shaking with anger and shame. “Ask maybe.”

“Would that really work?”

In gym, students had a hard time concentrating. All their eyes traveled to the slim brunet whose cheeks were blushed. Gym was never his favorite class but usually he got to be in relative peace. He knew the trick to being invisible, tasteless and soundless.

By Wednesday, after lunch, he snapped as he passed a group of athletes and the laughed quietly.

“What do you charge by the hour, Penis?”

“Okay!” Peter stormed to them, eyes flashing with fury and unshed tears. “Give me your phone!”

The boy tried to fight him but Peter took advantage of his Avenger training. He got the phone and clicked open the gallery.

There were five pictures. He was passed out on the bed he woke up in. The pics got worse and worse, in one he was without a shirt, next without pants, then without boxers, legs open and –

The last picture- he gagged and dropped the phone.

Ned found him later with head buried deep in the toilet bowl, gagging and retching but nothing more was coming up. His throat was raw and mouth dry.

“Peter,” His friend got onto his knees. “You need to tell Mr Stark.”

“No,” The boy shook his head and buried his face into his hands. “He’d hate me.”

“He would not. You are a victim.”

The brunet crawled away from toilet and leaned against the stall’s wooden wall.

“Peter,” Ned’s voice was desperate, terrified, disgusted. “This is illegal.”

The boy shook his head, tears streaming down his face: “The pics already exist, it’s impossible to get them removed. There must be copies. Who knows where they have streamed.”

“They can be deleted if we find the source,” Ned grabbed his arm. “Peter, are you certain you remember nothing?”

Peter nodded and sobbed.

“I woke up with my clothes on. I had no idea-“

He spent the rest of the day in the rest room. What did absence records matter when his life was in shreds?

 

“Peter,” Tony started as the boy was washing the dishes by hand. Grounding did not mean he could not visit Mr Stark but he was given multiple tasks usually given to droids or household appliances.

“Aunt May called,” The man’s tone was nonchalant. “You have not been at school for two days.”

“I got sick.”

“Still Happy drove you to school and fetched you from the gates.”

Peter shrugged and Tony sighed.

“Kid, what is going on?”

“Nothing,” Peter shook his head and placed a plate to dry. “I decided to take some time to revise for midterms.”

“Don’t feed me that bullshit,” The man snapped. “You have been off since weekend. Did something happen at that party?”

Here was a perfect opportunity to come clean but Peter did not want it. He wanted to protect his guardians from the shame of having to admit he was their responsibility. If they found out about the pictures, Aunt May would cry and Mr Stark would get that haunted look on his face. They would blame themselves for not protecting him. He would be known as a tattle-tale, who could not handle things on his own.

If he told the truth, Mr Stark and May would never look at him the same way again- he would always be the boy with his pants down-

Peter slapped a hand over his mouth and ran to the bathroom. Tony followed him, shouting his name in terror.

“Oh,” Tony stumbled back as Peter hacked lunch into the toilet bowl. “Sweet Jesus.”

“I’m okay,” Peter spat and breathed in deeply. His bangs were plastered to his sweaty forehead.

 

All hell broke loose on Friday. Tony had weeks before agreed to present at a career fair. Scientists and businesspeople from STEM fields talked about their work and gave valuable advice to young adults who would one day take over the wheels of the world.

Tony got on the stage, his presentation reflected on white canvas. He talked and clicked slide after slide, going over the history of Stark Industries, major milestones and prospects for the future.

“Now, what you should be focusing on is internship and our company has multiple opportunities in many fields.” He clicked and the slide changed. “The youngest people working for us are-“

Laughter erupted. Students were snickering and pointing at the canvas.

“What the-“ Tony muttered quietly and turned around. There was no joke.

This was worse than his nightmares. It was a picture. Peter was passed out on a bed, naked, with a hard on and in his mouth was someone’s penis.

Tony felt like throwing up. He ran to the computer and tried to put the picture down.

“What the fuck is this?” He shouted. The system had been hacked. He could not get the picture down without some programming. “Turn it off!” He began to tear away the cords and the system shut off.

The adults were shocked and looking at each other. Nobody knew what to do. The principal cleared his throat and walked to the stage. Tony wanted to beat him to it and threaten the entire student body, cut balls of anyone who dared to laugh but his attention was called away.

“Mr Stark! Help!”

It was not Peter but his friend, Ned, the boy who had once had a sleepover with Peter at the Tower.

The man ran to the row and Ned crouched down. Tony manhandled the kids in his way to stand up and give him space.

“Peter,” He dropped to his knees, eyes taking in the sight of his kid humming to himself, hands covering his ears and rocking gently in place. He could not place the tune but it sounded vaguely like a nursery rhyme.

“Kid,” He shook Peter’s shoulder. “You with us?”

Peter’s eyes were vacant. It was like he had left his body.

Tony’s heart froze and sank to his stomach: psychosis.

 

6 months later

 

The elevator chimed as Peter stepped out.

“Mr Stark?”

“In here!” The man set down his tablet as the boy dropped onto the couch beside him and buried his face into the man’s lap.

“Please, can I be a child?”

Tony’s throat tightened at the plea and he nodded.

“Of course, Pete,” His hands stroked the boy’s curls, voice wet with emotion. Peter groaned and pressed his ears with his palms. He stayed like that for a minute, curled up on himself, Tony’s waiting patiently but terrified what he would face today.

Peter removed his hands and gave a small, shy smile.

“Hey, Petey,” Tony bopped the boy’s nose and the kid giggled.

“I missed you,” The boy’s voice was soft, slightly higher than usual.

“Oh, I missed you too, little buddy,” The man grabbed the boy and kissed his face loudly. Peter squeeled.

“Daddy!” He fought against Tony’s hold. “Stop!”

“Not until the magic word!”

“Pwease?” The doe eyes were put into action and Tony melted in front of them.

   
_Peter was humming under his breath, coloring an Avengers book with colorful pencils. He was lying on the soft, red carpet in the psychiatrist’s office, feet swinging up and down._

_“What Peter is going through here is age regression,” The doctor, an older man of about sixty years old, took off his glasses and sighed. “It is a defense mechanism against trauma.”_

_Tony’s eyes did not leave Peter._

_“Just this trauma?” May brought up the question._

_“Could be,” The doctor shrugged. “But by what I have understood, Peter has been through a lot, way more than a boy his age should.”_

_“So he snapped,” Tony grimaced, he was still trying to figure out what song Peter was silently singing._

_The doctor nodded._

_“Given his background and speech, I would say he has regressed to the age of three. The age he was the happiest, safe and loved.”_

_“Daddy,” Peter got to his knees and placed the book on Tony’s lap. “Look!”_

_Peter had colored a picture of Hulk. The colors were off and he did not follow the lines but Tony still offered Peter a smile._

_“This is great, Petey,” He ruffled the boy’s hair. “But look, you did not color the building.”_

_“It is white,” Peter nodded._

_“But how about sky? Make it blue.”_

_Peter got back to position and picked light blue pencil from a pile._

_May sniffled, her heart aching seeing her bright nephew, a boy who could draw blueprints like it was no big deal, struggle with a simple coloring book._

_“Can we reverse it?”_

_The doctor sighed: “It can take time. Peter might return to himself tomorrow, next week or next month. His mind needs time to heal.”_  
 

Tony settled onto the couch with a Disney Story Book and began to tell the tale of Lady and the Tramp. Peter curled up beside him, sucking his thumb, fingers trailing the pictures.

Peter had snapped out of his child-mind but been diagnosed with a multiple personality disorder. Most of the time, he managed well: attended intensive therapy, ate meds and went to school. After the incident, there had been a lawsuit but it had got them practically nowhere. A group of juniors who had played with Peter’s unconscious body had been sent to juvie but the fact that the offence was minor and they had no previous records, they were supposed to be let out next month. Tony had tried to use Peter’s mental disturbance as a grounds to make the sentence more severe but psychosis had been an unforeseen consequence.

“Can you read that?” He pointed to a simple word but Peter shook his head.

For the first month, Peter had needed constant surveillance. He was very much a toddler; couldn’t read, dress or bathe himself. Tony learned new things every day. Toddler Peter hated baths, the teenager loved them. The teenager hated carrots, the toddler loved them.

He called Tony Daddy and Pepper Mommy. At first Tony had been shocked but again, Peter knew May was his aunt. He saw Tony had a special role in his life. The man was the one who played with action figures, knew he liked to eat from a Lion King plate and told him stories.

“You want another one?” Tony ended the first tale and knew Peter would nod his head and pick another one.

  
_“Mr Stark,” The psychiatrist said. “I strongly suggest-“_

_“I am not sending Peter to a home!” Tony frowned. “This is where he belongs!”_

_“It has been two weeks and he shows no sign of getting better,” The man gestured at Peter who was completing a puzzle, it had twenty pieces. Teenage Peter built elaborate Lego structures with no problem._

_“He will get better, surrounded by people who love him.”_

_“Have you thought this through? You know how much attention he needs. In a home, they have psychiatrists, people who have experience with disorders like these.”_

_“And I have experience with Peter,” Tony narrowed his eyes. “Don’t come here telling how I should raise my kid.”_  
 

“You ready to return now, Petey?” Tony stroked the boy’s hair and peered into his face. The child shrugged.

“Don’t go.”

“You know I will never leave you,” The man kissed the boy’s temple and moved further away to give Peter space.

A minute and his boy, his teenager was back, sweating, shaking, tears leaking from his eyes.

“I’m sorry,” Peter sank into his lap and started sobbing. Tony immediately shushed him.

“Buddy, it is okay. I gave you permission.”

This was their normal now. Every now and again, Peter would regress. He would play or listen to stories, stuck in a place in his mind where nothing could hurt him. In a fantasy land nobody but he could step.


	11. 7. Kidnapped

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Peter is taken from school

“Peter Parker, to the principal’s office.”

The boy in question snapped his head up from his AP Chemistry paper and looked at the teacher for confirmation. The middle aged man nodded his head and gave him a hall pass.

Spider hearing got into full action in the hallway.

“Parker shows a lot of promise.”

No way, Peter’s mouth snapped open. Mr Stark was at his school.

“We could not do it without him.”

“I understand completely,” The principal was saying just as Peter opened the door, peeking meekly inside as the two men turned their head.

“Speak of the devil,” Tony smirked, sunglasses on his face. He was wearing jeans and a blazer, so smart and suave Peter felt quite under-dressed and scruffy in blue MT sweater.

“Parker,” The principal gave him an excited smile. “Your employer was just telling about the latest project and the new-“

“Solar powered phone charger,” Tony winked and Peter fixed his dumbfounded expression.

“Yeah,” he nodded.

“Team came up with a revolutionizing idea, we need you.”

Before Peter could say ‘cat’, he was outside and sitting down in a black Audi.

“Wow,” He turned to his mentor and frowned.

“I know, I am a world class bullshitter,” Tony started the car and drove away from the Midtown.

“Mr Stark, I was supposed to come to the Tower in a couple of hours.”

“I got bored and decided to get you a little early,” The man shrugged.

“I just had lunch!”

“Good, we can do a little shopping, those clothes seem to be dropping on you,” He felt Peter’s jacket with his fingers. He strongly suspected they belonged to the boy’s dead Uncle. He understood melancholy but a boy of Peter’s age should not be walking around in clothes that did not fit him at all. No wonder he was getting bullied.

“There’s nothing wrong with my wardrobe!” Peter protested with a blush.

“That shirt is at least two sizes too big for you!”

“So what, I’m a growing boy!”

Tony seriously doubted teenagers grew as fast as toddlers. He could understand Barton kids having a bit bigger clothes but Peter was another case.

The man waved his hand to dismiss the subject.

 

By the time Peter would have gotten out of school, he and Tony had gone through most clothes stores in the nearby mall. By the boy’s insistence, they stayed out of brand stores such as Tom Ford.

“Kid, it’s no problem, I can pay,” Tony sighed. “C’mon, I saw jeans that would look amazing on you.”

“Mr Stark, you should not spend so much on me.”

“Did you forget,” The man opened his arms with a smirk ,” billionaire.”

“No, I did not but I am not your pet, okay.”

The boy stomped off to store which was closer to his pay rate. He dug into a pile of sweaters, debating whether maroon or black was more of his color.

“You don’t mean that, Peter,” Tony’s voice was grave and worried. “I just want to help.”

The boy sighed heavily: “I know, I’m sorry I snapped,” He looked at his mentor, ashamed and worried that he had truly offended the philanthropist.

“I am used to showing my love through money. My friends have never complained about it.”

“Who would?” Peter gave a small, dry laugh. “I appreciate the gesture but I just don’t like when it is so grand. It makes me uncomfortable.”

The man smiled slightly and wrapped an arm around his shoulder.

“That won’t do,” he bopped the boy’s nose with finger. “This is Peter’s fun day.”

 

By the evening, when Peter had gotten permission from May (“You did not call her about this?” “She would have said no”), he lied on the floor by a large television watching the Lord of the Rings trilogy.

“I was actually at the premiere,” Tony gestured at the screen as Gandalf arrived at the Hobbiton.

“Really?” Peter asked in awe from their blanket fort. They were both snuggled in, lying side by side, propped up by pillows, comfortable and warm.

The man nodded: “Yes, it was nothing I had ever seen. I believe I still have a poster with all the actors signatures.”

The boy’s jaw nearly hit the floor.

“You have Viggo Mortensen’s autograph?” His admiration for his mentor grew tremendously. “He is one of my favorite actors!”

“He is talented,” Tony admitted and snatched a handful of popcorn. “Have you ever seen The Road?”

“It makes me sick but I still watch it every time it is on,” Peter snickered and moved the bag of liquorice closer. He and Tony had had a lot of fun going to nearby 7/11 and buying ten bags of candies and chocolate.

“I have the same kind of relationship with Titanic,” His mentor nodded. “I have seen it so many times I know it by heart but I still watch it every time, no matter if it is almost over.”

“I have never seen it,” Peter shook his head, admiring the beautiful landscapes and adorable children running after the wizard’s carriage. Tony’s head whipped around in shock.

“You have never seen Titanic?” It was Tony’s turn to look like a fish on dry land. Peter shrunk away under the gaze.

“I know the song…”

Tony looked pained: “I swear, tomorrow your education begins.”


	12. 16. Bedridden

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Peter is in a coma and Tony sits by his side

The heart monitor provided the rhythm. Ventilator completed the soundtrack.

Tony rolled his head, trying to ease the knots open and sighed heavily.

Peter lied on the bed, his eyes taped shut, tube in his mouth connected to a ventilator. His chest rose up and down with the cool air. Countless lines and wires invaded his body, Tony had half a mind to rip them all off but the rational part of his brain knew they were all needed.

The door opened.

“Hey,” May whispered with a tired voice, Tony gave a small smile but it died fast. He accepted the take away cup of coffee.

“How is he?”

“The same,” The man shrugged and took a sip. He wondered which would happen first: Peter waking up or him getting an ulcer from the stress and poor diet. “The nurse sucked off the mucus from the breathing tube.”

“Good,” The woman nodded and took a seat. “His vitals?”

“Nothing much.”

“Did you read to him?”

“Yeah,” Tony pointed at the latest issue of EMPIRE. “We got to page 78 before my voice gave up. Then I put on some music, our lab soundtrack.”

May gave a small laugh: “I saw a dream last night where we put on Another One Bites The Dust and Peter woke up to head bang.”

Tony chuckled at the thought and the memory of the kid doing the exact thing in the lab. Peter had smacked his head on the counter and sported an impressive bruise on his forehead for the rest of the day.

 

 

 

 

Tony was dozing, almost asleep in an awkward position. He had considered joining the kid on the bed but with his luck, he would most likely kill the boy by blocking the IV.

Peter’s body was cold, extra heat would not do any harm. He needed to speak to the doctor about it.

“Mr Stark.”

The man turned his head to the door where a nurse was standing. His chair was practically stopping anyone from entering the room.

“Would you like to help? I’m moving Peter into another position so he doesn’t get bed sores.”

Tony nodded and stood up. He walked to Peter who was on his bed, his life depending on the machines that provided him air and nutrients.

“Hey there, Pete,” He stroked the boy’s hair. Peter’s response was mechanical puff as air escaped his lungs. “We’re doing some stretching today.”

The nurse gently pushed Peter off his back and Tony maneuvered him onto his right side. The woman positioned pillows to keep him in place.

“This seems fine,” She checked the monitors and wires, Tony had eyes only for his boy. He had hoped, unrealistically and against everything he knew, that the change would jolt Peter out of his coma.

The woman gave him sad smile.

“He will get better. Peter is progressing every day.”

“Not fast enough for me,” Tony shook his head.

What if this would become his normal?

 

 

 

“Hello, kid,” Tony gave his usual greeting, set a cup of coffee on the bedside table and bent over to kiss the boy’s forehead. “Do you know what day today is?”

The table was filled with get well cards and dead flowers. The man frowned, he needed to replace them.

“Today is sports day,” He took a seat and rolled up his sleeves. “You love going to the gym. It is not possible today so we need to improvise.”

A physiotherapist had come up with regime that would prevent muscle loss. Tony wanted to cry at how frail his boy was starting to look. Despite regularly moving Peter’s limbs and rubbing his muscles, his toned body was getting thin and weak.

“In,” He moved the boy’s knee towards his chest. “And out,” He stretched out the leg, mindful of the catheter line. “That’s it.”

When legs were done, he sat down and began to work on Peter’s left arm.

“Never say I did nothing for you.”

Peter’s body inhaled.

“I’m sorry,” Tony shook his head as he fisted and relaxed Peter’s hand. “You are always so grateful for every little thing I do.”

The boy slept on.

“Remember the first time you spent the night here, at the Tower? I ordered us pizza, one for each. I had no idea you needed more food to keep with that bottomless pit of yours,” The man chuckled. “FRIDAY woke me up and told you were in distress. You were just starving and dared not go to the kitchen, fearing I would get mad at you. Remember what happened then?”

Peter’s chest rose and fell.

“That’s right! We had our own little feast. I made you pasta and grilled cheese sandwiches in the middle of the night. You were practically in tears and telling me “No, Mr Stark, I can make do with just a yogurt, honestly””

That was his boy, used to so little any act of kindness made his world turn upside down.

 

 

 

 

“Good morning,” Tony opened the door with some difficulty, his hands were practically full of flowers.

“How are we doing today?” He set the fresh flowers down and began the morose task of taking the dead plants from the vases. He had been certain they would not need to replace them, Peter would certainly wake up before that. He had half a mind to keep them but the thought flew away as the petals and leaves crumbled into his fingers.

“Let’s play a little game today,” Tony opened the paper wrap and took out a bouquet of white flowers. “Try to guess what it is. I know you love biology but honestly, I think you need a little crash course in plants.”

He placed the gift under the boy’s nose. Tony had chosen the flowers with the strongest yet sweetest aroma. Yes, he knew Peter was not breathing himself but maybe the scent would wake some part of his brain and help him escape coma.

“This one,” He opened another packet after putting the first batch into a vase,” is my personal favorite. You need to tell me your favorite flowers, I can bring them if I didn’t get it right.”

Peter slept on. His nose didn’t twitch as the petals tickled his skin.

“Try it,” Tony opened the boy’s hand and guided it to the flower. “Feels a little rough, right?”

He moved Peter’s fingers along the petals and leaves. There was no reaction and Tony was growing desperate. He had half a mind to start pinching Peter in all places to help him gain awareness.

“Then,” He opened the last bouquet ,”is the last one, a cliché but it still works.”

Tony had never enjoyed the smell of roses but they were standard, obligation even.

“I know you know red roses mean love,” He watched his boy, eyes glistening. The situation was getting too much. For weeks they had hoped and waited, prayed and wished for a sign, some change. Uncertainty was the worst. According to doctors, there was no knowing how long Peter was going to sleep. There was so much they didn’t know about Peter.

“I wish something would happen,” Tony whispered. “It pains me to see you wither away here. I just-“ He turned his eyes to the ceiling as he tried to control his emotions. “I just wish for a sign, of good or bad. So I- so we would know what is going on.”

The ventilator and heart monitor were the only sound in the room.

“I don’t know where you are. Are you in heaven? Is this a limbo? Or are you just sleeping? Do you know what is happening? Are you aware?” He looked around. “Are you here with me now?”

Peter gave no response. Tony sniffed, placed the roses on another vase and sighed heavily. He rubbed his eyes and moved his hand grasp Peter’s.

“If you hear me, kid, I need to tell you this,” He stroked the knuckles with his thumb; Peter’s skin was cool, almost cold. “You are so loved. You have no idea how much we all love you. We want you back and will do anything to get you back.”

“But,” Tony gulped and stroked the boy’s hair with other hand. “I- I know you suffer sometimes. I know it is difficult. So-“ His voice nearly died, he could not believe what he was about to say. “If you want to leave, you may. I- I give you permission to give up but I so wish you wouldn’t . You- it gets better- but if this is some self-inflicted limbo then- you may let go.”

He paused.

He expected the heart monitor to go crazy and eventually flat line.

But nothing happened.

“Oh thank Jesus,” Tony breathed out after tense waiting. Tears spilled from his eyes and he hid his face into Peter’s stomach. If the boy had died- they would have had two bodies to take care of.

“I’m not ready to give up on you, Pete,” He turned his head so he could look into Peter’s face. “You may sleep as long as you want. I promise, I’ll be waiting for you right here. I won’t go anywhere.”

Tony closed his eyes, lulled into exhaustion by the sound of Peter’s heart beating.


	13. 8. Fever

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The first weekend Peter is supposed to spend alone and he gets sick

“Emergency numbers are on the fridge and the fire extinguisher in the hall. You remember all, right?”

Peter nodded and followed his aunt to the door.

“I left you money for food but there is meatloaf in the fridge plus some frozen dinners, they should be enough,” The woman began to put on her purple coat. “Tony promised to call you regularly and if anything comes up, he will be right over.”

The boy was practically shaking with excitement: his first weekend alone in all his life. May was going out of city to get extra training on interpersonal interactions and that left Peter to himself. Of course, Tony had offered his place but the boy wanted to learn independence. He was already 16 years old, it was about time he learned to spend a weekend without a guardian.

“Don’t worry, May,” He hugged his aunt in farewell and took her bag to carry it to the car. “I will be fine!”

 

 

“I’m dying.”

His body was freezing, throat in flames and head felt heavy like a bowling ball. Peter curled up further into himself and desperately wished he had grabbed a blanket or two from the couch. His duvet was not enough to combat the chill in his bones.

He didn’t even know bones could hurt.

His feverish coma was broken into by a shrill noise.

Why the Hell had he set Back to Black as Mr Stark’s tone? First thing tomorrow, he was setting it to Morning Mood.

“How is the little man doing?” Mr Stark’s voice was too loud and clear for his ears.

“Crappy,” Peter croaked out and coughed dryly.

“Aww, kiddo,” The man rarely called him anything other than Peter or Kid, kiddo was a major step for them. “Do you have- fuck, that’s a stupid question. How high is your fever?”

“Don’t know,” Peter curled up and set the phone on the mattress near his mouth. He was too tired and aching to hold it to his ear. “Can’t get out of bed.”

“That sounds serious,” Tony’s voice turned harder. He was not an expert but it sounded like the boy had more than just a simple cold. “I’m coming over, just try not to die on me.”

Peter did not answer, he was already deep in the dream land.

“Peter,” Someone was shaking his shoulder literally a second later. The boy jumped up and scrambled away from the offender and would have fallen had Tony not grabbed him at the last minute.

“Jesus, kid! You aim to give me a heart-attack?” The man maneuvered the boy back on the bed, his fingers burning when they came in contact with his skin. Peter was breathing heavily, still in shock as his mind refused to comply with reality.

“But- what- how are you here?”

His mentor raised an eyebrow: “What do you mean? I said I was coming to check up on you.”

“Yeah, but, it’s been like a minute.”

Concern blinked in Tony’s eyes as his hands grasped the back of Peter’s neck and his forehead.

“Okay, your fever is definitely up to 103. Have you eaten anything today, or even drunk?”

The boy predictably shook his head, his form shaking as he was not covered by anything more than pajamas.

A minute later, Tony put on water kettle and shoved a thermometer to Peter’s mouth. His hands kept hovering between the boy’s hair and face, trying to bring comfort by gentle strokes.

“You don’t need to stay,” The boy said from around the glass stick and ended with a cough.

“A-a,” The man held out a finger. “No talking for you until you have had something warm to drink. Plus, that is just your self-sacrificing idiot-self talking. I know that deep there, deep deep down,” He poked at Peter’s chest,” is a scared little boy who wants me to stay here and take care of you.”

Tony had a point, Peter could not deny it. He had never been sick and alone. Well, the spider bite he had a kept a secret but Ben and May had been present and attainable when need arose.

The fever rose to 103.5.

“Yikes,” Tony grimaced and waved the meter to get the liquid to normal numbers. “We need to keep an eye on that one. Is there a flu going around?”

“Influenza at school.”

“And you didn’t get vaccinated why?”

Peter blushed: “I never do. Aunt May gets, yes, because she works at a hospital, but she says a healthy young person with no medical issues has no acute need for it.”

“Well, looks like you have got it now. All the symptoms match: rapid onset of high fever, exhaustion, throat pain, let’s just hope no nausea comes up.”

“You just had to jinx it.”

Tony grinned with embarrassment.

“Sorry,” The man knocked on Peter’s desk three times.

 

 

 

The news on the television provided a good soundtrack to the phone call as Tony reached out to one of the only people he trusted with his life- and his kid’s.

“It was 103.7 an hour ago, he has been sleeping ever since,” He reached look at the open door. He heard soft snoring but got no visual because of the angle.

“Is it normal?... Okay, yeah, I gave him fever reducer and hot chocolate…. no milk, just water…. Okay… yeah… so, we don’t need a doctor unless… okay, thanks, expect another call in an hour, I need to check on the kid, try to get him to eat something- Yes, Rhodey, just soup, it’s not like I would feed him a steak.”

He found a can of vegetable soup and added in extra water to make it easier to swallow. The food and a glass of water were balanced on a tray as he softly kicked the door wide open. Peter had curled up under the covers, pillow had fallen on the floor.

“Peter,” Tony lowered the meal onto the desk and sat down beside the snoring boy. He touched the flushed cheek with the back of his hand and grimaced: fever had not come down the slightest.

“Kid,” He shook the boy’s shoulder gently, Peter was feeling bad enough as he was, he did not need a harsh wake up call. “Buddy, you need to eat something.”

Peter coughed and turned onto his back.

“No,” His young voice was raspy and the word was followed by dry coughing and a whimper. The man frowned, he would need to keep an eye in case of a throat infection.

“Yes,” Tony stated and stacked the pillows. He grabbed Peter under arms and lifted him to a half sitting position.

“I don’t feel good,” Peter shook his head and wrapped the comforter tighter around himself.

“You feel sick?”

“Dunno.”

Tony nodded: “Let’s try at least,” He grabbed the soup and twirled it around with a spoon, making sure it was not too hot.

Peter looked wary.

“If you feel sick, tell me, but at least try a little. Maybe some food in your stomach will improve your condition.”

The boy bit his lip but nodded. Tony gave his protégé a grateful look and lifted the spoon to his mouth. Peter blushed but it was not from the fever.

“I can feed myself.”

“Even on the normal day you drop half the food on your lap.”

It was a joke between them that you could tell what Peter had eaten a certain day just by looking at his shirt. Once they had had a barbecue and the boy had managed to stain his clothes before even taking a single bite of his steak.

“If you drop the soup, I will need to wash the covers and then you will be cold and miserable.”

Mr Stark had a good point and Peter opened his mouth. The meal was great and his mentor was a terrific feeder. He knew to give just the right amount to not make him choke or leave marks on his face.

“You have much experience with this?”

Tony looked up from blowing on the spoonful of yellowish soup: “This? None, but I am an engineer, steady hands.”

The boy opened his mouth as the spoon reached his lips. Their teamwork was seamless.

“This is still humiliating.”

“Now you can tell Tony Stark fed you like a baby. Your popularity will skyrocket.”

“You really don’t understand high school, Mr Stark.”

His stomach gave the first signs of having enough. Peter clamped his mouth shut and turned his head away.

“You full? You didn’t even have half of it,” Tony frowned but leaned closer as Peter turned paler and started sweating slightly.

“Nauseous?”

The boy cleared his throat and swallowed.

“Could you bring a bucket?”

Peter’s voice was even, not hurried was but he was clearly not feeling great. He fetched the required item from the bathroom.

“Okay,” Tony set next to the bed and sat beside the boy, rubbing his back and lifted a glass of water to his lips. “Try this, maybe it helps a little.”

Peter took a small sip, his eyes on the red plastic container.

“I think you just ate too quickly to an empty stomach.”

The boy swallowed heavily and nodded: “Yeah, it’s starting to go away.”

“I could open the window. Fresh air might help,” Tony stood up at Peter’s nod. The air was crisp and he hoped it would help bring down the boy’s fever.

He had Peter stay on the lifted position to prevent nausea and constant coughing.

 

 

 

Two hours later he measured the fever again.

“103.8”, Tony shook his head as he read the reading out loud on the phone. “It keeps going up…. Well that plus he is coughing constantly, his throat hurts… what? I- um- let me see.”

“Buddy,” He set his phone on the desk next to a cup of warm water, honey and ginger ,”Open your mouth for me.”

Peter sniffled and obeyed. Tony turned his head to the light.

“Thank you,” He helped his ward to lay down again and returned to the phone call.

“Inflamed and red… no, nothing like it… alright…. just, he aches all over and feels cold but really he is like a boiler.”

The doctor on the other line told his verdict.

Tone raised an eyebrow.

“Really? That’s it, just rest and fluids? The kid looks like death warmed over-“

“Mr Stark,” Peter whined in annoyance.

“Hush, you,” The man set a finger over the boy’s lips. “Just, shouldn’t he be in an IV or- yes, I know about the healing factor but- Fine! Fine! But I will hold you accountable if this turns out to be a deadly killer virus that will spread across the globe and kill millions-“

“Mr Stark!”

Tony ended the call, took in a calming breath and smiled gently.

“You want some fruit? Oranges or grapes?”

“What the hell was that?”

“Oh,” The man shrugged and adjusted his patient’s covers. “That was just my public persona taking over for a second.”

“Public-“Peter’s brain was too much like mush to keep up with his mentor’s fragmented reasoning.

“Yes, I am a celebrity so I have multiple personalities. One is the hard-to-work-with genius and the other is currently trying to decide what fruits you favor.”

“Which of them is the real you?”

The question was so genuine and said in a voice so concerned Tony could not help but feel his heart melt.

“Let this be a hint: I never lie to you,” He bopped the boy’s nose and Peter scrunched his face.


	14. 21. Harsh Climate

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Peter's mind is not well and the loneliness gets to him

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trigger warning: suicide attempt
> 
> Guys, this one was hard

20th of July Peter’s friend Betty had her Sweet Sixteen Birthday Party. The house was packed with people, there was good music, tasty food and for once, Peter actually enjoyed himself. He had brought a small gift for Betty (he had made it in the lab under Mr Stark’s keen guidance).

Peter could not remember ever having a party like this. Sure he had had some birthdays when he invited friends over and they had cake and a magician but that was when his parents were alive. Most of the time his birthdays were spent with Ben and May, watching movies and eating take out.

Now, Ben was gone and all the foundations of his life had been uprooted.

He couldn’t help jealousy as he watched Betty dance with her many friends. He had never had so many people in his life. His arrival never made so many people happy.

What was it that he lacked?

Was it his appearance? Personality? Was he too much or too little?

How could he make people like himself?

He needed to know if he could be like Betty.

Peter started asking a week before the 10th of August: What were people doing then? He did not hint a word at his birthday, just said something about a party, end of the summer kind of thing.

Ned was the first one he texted.

“Sorry, man, I am visiting my grandparents.”

Peter almost gave up at Ned’s refusal. His best friend had bailed out on him.

But he kept on anyway.

He called the rest of the decathlon team and got the same kind of answers: out of town, summer school, baby-sitting. At one point, Peter became certain they were all excuses. There was no way all the kids in his class were busy during the day!

MJ was his first option: it was not like he disliked the girl, it was just that… well, she was a case of her own.

MJ had some sort of literacy group meeting and she was the chairman that time.

Peter laid down on his bed and swallowed hard.

He was such a loser.

He was certain all the kids were invited to some other party and he was the only one left out. There was no other explanation.

Peter scrolled through his contact list and sighed: if he could not be with people his own age, maybe he could spend his birthday with someone that liked him.

“Yeah no,” Tony answered as Peter suggested that he come to the Tower and spend the night on 10th of August. “I have a business meeting in Boston, I won’t be back until the 12th. And Pepper is in California so there really is no point for you to come here.”

Peter did something he never did: he hung up on Mr Stark.

The man did not call back or text him if he was okay.

He did not care.

Nobody really cared.

9th of August Peter came and Peter began to get his good mood back. He had spent time with Ned, they had started on the Lego Set Mr Stark had bought him the time they had been shopping for new components for the lab (Note to self: Never look at anything more than five seconds when shopping with Tony Stark!).

As he fried chicken on the pan, Peter felt content because although his friends were not there, at least May was there for him.

“Peter,” May began as she set the table. “I’m sorry but I had to take a double shift at the hospital tomorrow so we have to cancel our movie night.”

“What?” Peter turned around, eyes wide in shock. This could not be happening.

“I’m sorry, sweetie but you know, you can invite some of your friends over. You are 16 after all, I trust you to keep the house standing.”

May’s words about friends hurt him. His eyes began to sting.

“Nobody is coming.”

“What?”

“I asked a week ago. Everyone is busy.”

“How can that be? It is summer-”

“I know,” Peter bit his lip but the first tear still escaped. He turned off the stove and wiped his eyes with his hand.

He could feel May’s eyes, judging him.

“Are you crying?”

He could not answer.

Peter let out a sniff.

“Why is it so hard for you to make friends?”

May’s words were low, maybe even terrified.

Peter wanted to have an answer but he could not talk. The pain in his chest erupted into tears.

“I guess nobody really likes me.”

That was the answer.

He was unlikeable, ugly, worthless.

The world deserved a better Peter Parker.

“What is so wrong with me? Why am I never enough?”

Usually when he had moments of self-hatred, May was there to comfort him, hold him close and say he was the world to her.

Apparently, it was only a matter of time before he ended up using all her love.

“I am sick and tired of always hearing those same questions, Peter! You have to do something about it!”

“What can I do more?” Peter screamed in response. “I try everything! I’m kind, polite, and I ask ask ask about other’s lives but they just never meet me halfway!”

“How can you make friendships when you are either cooped up here studying or doing god-knows-what on the streets?!” May lost her temper at him. “Peter, you are 16 years old, you can’t act like a child anymore!”

“I stopped being a child when Mom and Dad died!” Peter shouted. “Do you even know how many times I had wished they took me with them?”

“Well maybe they should have since the life I try to give you clearly is not good enough!”

“Maybe I should just end it by my own hand then!”

Peter stormed off and banged the door to his bedroom closed.

It was all empty threats, Peter knew it. May was sick and tired of him crying about being lonely. And he would never take his own life, they had had that conversation many times.

They both just needed to cool off.

Peter dropped onto his bed and opened Youtube.

Maybe some cat videos would take his mind off the tears.

* * *

10th of August Peter felt no different. First he checked his phone.

No new messages.

Not even from Mr Stark. The man who should know his birthday. The man knew everything.

But he was also scatterbrained as hell.

Peter got up and walked to the kitchen.

There was a post-it on the table. May wished him a Happy Birthday, she had drawn numerous hearts and said she would be back around 6 am on 11th.

Peter spent his Sweet Sixteen doing the basic patrol. Nothing exciting happened.

And it felt even worse.

If something big and extraordinary took place, maybe he could reason that he could not have a birthday party: the city needed him. Spiderman could not afford a social life.

His heart knew it was all a lie.

Maybe a life-saving lie but a non-truth nonetheless.

His mind kept coming up with false images. Peter hoped that maybe everyone had lied to him, maybe there they were planning a surprise party. Yes, that would explain why May would say yes to a work shift when she knew how important the day was to Peter.

He kept expecting a message from Ned or Mr Stark, telling him their appointments were cancelled and they should come over.

His phone did not binge even once.

Peter felt even worse.

He quit patrol once his muscles lost their strength. He changed back to his normal clothes in some back alley and climbed the stairs to his door. He tried to hear if there was something happening in the living room. It was all quiet.

Maybe someone had seen him from the window.

But maybe they were all waiting for him already.

Peter turned the key in the lock and peeked inside.

The apartment was dark and cold.

He put on the lights.

He was alone. There were no decorations, no presents, no cake.

The clock was 10 in the evening.

16 years ago, he had just entered the world.

Peter lit a candle and silent tears dropped from his eyes.

“Happy birthday to me, happy birthday to me,” Peter almost choked up. “Happy birthday dear Peter, happy birthday to me.”

* * *

Around midnight the candle burned out and Peter was still too anxious to go to bed. He needed to do something, a distraction, something productive. He wanted a lab environment and he put on his suit and swung his way to the Tower.

The lights were off as he expected. Tony would not lie to him about being out of town.

He climbed in through the balcony doors as was usual. He knew the way around the Tower like the back of his hand. And the route to the labs was even more like coming home.

The route brought him by the living room.

There were lights on.

Peter was shocked: did Tony forget to turn off the lights. Usually the man was very adamant about that.

Then a voice.

Voices.

Speaking.

Peter’s heart sunk to his stomach. He stepped forward.

Tony was sitting on the chair.

Tony was not in Boston.

Tony was in New York.

Tony had lied to him.

“Mr Stark?” Peter whispered and the man’s head snapped up.

“Kid?” The voice was full of surprise. “Wha- why are you here? Are you hurt?”

Pepper turned around to look at the boy. Peter did not see the tears in her eyes. All he saw was his mentor and his fiancee and their betrayal.

The boy began to breathe faster and tried to run away.

“Peter!”

Running and then hands grabbed him.

“Peter, Peter,” Tony held the boy that was struggling to get away. Peter used his nails and teeth but Tony’s skin was too thick to feel much hurt.

“Hey, kid, calm down!” The man turned Peter around and shook him. “What is the matter with you?”

“You lied!” Peter screamed. “You lied to me. You’re just like everyone else.”

“Everyone- what?” Tony looked confused for a second but then his eyes took a stern glare. “Peter, I have no time for teenage drama, not tonight.”

“Lucky for you, this is the last time,” Peter spat and nearly twisted his mentor’s arm out of socket as he ran to the balcony.

“Kid, wait up!”

“We’re done!” Peter put on his mask and jumped away. He shoot a web to the nearest building and swung in the air.

Tony ran to the edge and watched as the boy grew smaller in the horizon.

“Peter!” He shouted with all the power in his lungs. The boy did not acknowledge the desperate scream.

Tony rubbed his face with his hands. He could not get the look on Peter’s face out of his mind. The boy had not been himself, his eyes had looked almost possessed.

He sensed Pepper appear behind him.

“What was that?” She asked with red eyes. Tony shook his head.

“I don’t know, but I need to call May.”

* * *

_“Hey, Mrs Parker. Um, I know you are most likely at work but if you hear this I recommend you to contact Peter. Call him or text or something. Peter came here tonight and he was- I- I can’t even sugarcoat it, he was crazy. Screaming and biting me, I don’t know if something has happened. You should talk to him, try to find out what you can. Call me if it is something serious, if he needs some extra help, like a psychologist or- anyway, I know people, I can get him an appointment in like an hour. It’s- I wouldn’t say but I’m really worried about him… Or maybe it was a fluke and he is okay, now, I sure hope so… I’ll call you.”_

* * *

Peter didn’t remember how he got home. All he could feel was emptiness and sadness. The sadness was so large he hurt in chest and wrists. It was pain, pure pain.

His mind shut down and he was acting purely on impulse.

That was why he did it.

It was not something he had planned for a long time.

He had thought about it, yes, who hadn’t toyed with the idea of death?

He opened the medicine cabinet and began to swallow the pills like candy.

Cold medicine, sleeping pills, pain killers, anything he could get his hands on ended up in his stomach. At one point he turned to the alcohol: wine, tequila, cheap scotch, whiskey, vodka.

His metabolism kept him going for a long time.

But eventually even his superpowers failed under the heavy substance abuse.

Peter gagged and vomited. He nearly choked on the thick combination of beer and half-chewed pills.

He was getting dizzy, nauseous and sleepy.

Peter knew he needed help, they had to pump his stomach. Normal person would have already died or fallen unconscious.

In time Peter too curled up on the living room carpet. He coughed and spit out some bile.

The last thought before he fell unconscious was the mess he had left behind.

* * *

_“Hey Kid, it’s me Tony. Bit of a short visit today, huh? You could have stayed and greeted us properly… I just wanted to let you know that I was a bit hurt, about calling me a liar. I was really in Boston but Pepper- a family emergency came up and Pepper needed me at home. Her mother died. That is why we were here. I was not trying to avoid you, if you somehow got that impression… You were not yourself, Peter, and I am worried. You’re a smart kid, a good kid, you should not think so low of yourself. Oh, and about that we’re done thing, yeah, not happening. You’re stuck with me, kid. You can’t just call of our friendship like that, we both need to agree on it and guess what, I am not giving up on you. If you ever need me with anything, Peter, you can always call me. I won’t ignore you… Love you, Pete.”_

* * *

For the rest of his life, Tony would remember the time of the call. 3.17. It was May.

“Hey, you got my message.” Tony had the intention to say but he never got the sentence out of his mouth as the woman’s screaming shocked him.

“May, slow down, tell me what is happening.”

Pepper, who had been laying on the couch with a photo album , sat up with a shocked look on her face. What more could they face in one day.

Tony’s eyes widened.

“Peter, what is- What is wrong with Peter?”

No, Pepper whispered in her mind as Tony sat there, speechless. The man’s mouth opened and a hand covered it in an automatic response.

“Okay, I- I’ll tell to get the Medbay ready and get him with the suit-”

May’s response was quick.

“Okay, a Helicopter will get him. I’ll come there to help.”

Tony ended the call and tapped on his chest.

“Peter overdosed, he is not breathing,” The words were masking the panic Tony felt inside. “I’ll have to go there, Pepper-”

“Go now!” The woman commanded her fiance and a second later the armor shot through the window.

* * *

Pepper was not there when the helicopter arrived half an hour later. But she was waiting by the hospital hallway and watched as the doctors got all the equipment ready for stomach pumping. There was a defibrillator and a ventilator by the side.

She heard them before they arrived.

“Please save him!”

It was May. The woman was openly crying as she followed beside the gurney Peter was transported on. The boy was naked aside from the cloth that covered him from waist down. There was breathing tube down his throat with an ambubag attached to it. Tony was on his knees on the gurney. He straddled Peter and was doing chest compressions on the still boy. Peter’s sternum sank low and Pepper heard the ribs crack.

“Breath,” Tony called, drew his hands back and a nurse squeezed the bag twice. Tony folded his hands, locked his elbows and used the weight of his upper body to do CPR.

“C’mon, kid, c’mon,” Tony muttered as they arrived to the hospital room. A doctor moved to Peter’s head.

“How long has he been down?” He shone a light to one of the pupils.

“Ten-”

“Seven minutes,” Tony’s voice rose over the ruckus. “He flatlined seven minutes ago.”

“Okay, we need to work fast. Stark, you helping us?”

Tony nodded as he kept compressing Peter’s chest. The boy’s face was blue and his fingers twitched helplessly with each press.

“You can’t die on me, kid, or I swear to God I will murder you.”

The doctor told Tony to lean back and shot an injection to just where Peter’s heart was.

“Injecting adrenaline,” the doctor said and a nurse marked it down. “How many units did he get on the helicopter?”

“Two.”

“Okay,” The man nodded but Pepper could see he was expecting a grim outcome. He pulled the needle out and they waited. Heart monitor gave a shrill whine.

“C’mon, c’mon, Pete,” Tony prayed, his eyes locked on the straight green line. “Work with me, kiddo.”

They waited.

“Nothing.”

Tony cursed heavily and returned to chest compressions.

“Okay,” the doctor turned to a machine. “We’ll start pumping his stomach. Get another saline bag, he also needs glucose.”

“How much?” One nurse asked.

“Get two times the normal amount, we can’t go wrong, he is technically dead.”

The treatment took a long time. Pepper and May were allowed to stay in the room, mostly because Peter’s condition was so severe. Tony kept doing the compressions until his practically collapsed in exhaustion.

“Mr Stark, you need to rest,” A nurse touched his arm and Tony shook his head.

“No,” tears streamed from his face. “I can’t- my kid,”

“Sir, sit down, please.”

Tony was dragged from the gurney. The man tried to grasp Peter’s hand but the cold, limp fingers slid from his weak hold. Tony collapsed against the wall and slid down until he was sitting down. Only then did he break down in sobs.

Pepper had to leave May alone to deal with him. She shushed him and put his head on her chest.

“This can’t happen,” Tony cried, the words a mere whisper. “He- he was covered in vomit, he choked on it. I tried to get him to breathe but he was so cold.”

“Shh,” Pepper hugged him tighter as tears slid down her cheeks.

“I can’t lose him, Pep.” Tony buried his face into her stomach. “It’s my fault- I should not have let him go. I should have followed him.”

“You didn’t know this was going to happen,” The woman tried to reason but she knew it was senseless.

“I should have known it. I should have known what was going on in his head,” Tony watched as the doctors worked on his boy. His brilliant Peter, the apple of his eye. Dead. No, Peter was supposed to outlive him, outlive every Avenger and become the great man Tony already thought he was.

“I should have gone to his home! I could have stopped this! Why did I let him go?”

* * *

It took an hour to get Peter’s pulse back.

An hour his brain had been deprived of oxygen.

Before that his system had been assaulted with lethal amounts of alcohol and drugs.

“He is in a coma,” The doctor said after they had done the tests. “I’m sorry.”

* * *

“Hello, kiddo,” Tony kissed boy’s knuckles and rubbed the small hand. He looked automatically at the ventilator that kept providing the boy oxygen, it was practically the only thing that was keeping Peter alive at this point.

“It’s been two weeks now. How about you start opening those eyes now? You’ll miss school otherwise.”

The news of Peter’s suicide attempt had spread far and wide. The news had covered it, Tony Stark’s interns overdose was a topic of gossip.

How Tony Stark was being a bad influence.

Internship at a young age can be a detrimental factor on teenager’s mental health.

The amount of hate mail he got nowadays was astounding. He had had to close his public social media channels because of the comments.

Truth to be told, Tony did not care. They could call him a devil, a killer, anything they wanted as long as Peter opened his eyes.

“I have no idea what happened, kiddo. I don’t know why you did it. I can only guess. But if we guess we can’t help you. So you need to wake up and tell me.”

He said the same thing every day and Peter never did as he was told.

Tony sighed and resumed the normal pattern. He read the newspapers aloud and a book he had got from his personal collections. He worked Peter’s limbs so that the muscles would not be completely lost when the boy woke up.

As a clock, May came at four and brought him a coffee. Rhodey brought him dinner but Tony was not hungry. He must have lost nearly 20 pounds. He got head rushes and nearly fainted at one point on getting up from the chair.

Days followed another and the tests were not too promising.

_“Peter’s liver is not working properly.”_

_“He is going to need a kidney transplant.”_

_“There is definite brain damage.”_

Bad news day in day out.

At times Tony played with the idea of turning off the ventilator.

But he nearly beat himself up for the idea every day.

He was not going to give up on Peter. He was there to stay, no matter how many weeks it took.

“I’ll be waiting here, kid.”

* * *

It was white.

White and warm and loud.

Heaven couldn’t be loud.

Peter felt like he was falling down from above. He was dizzy.

He had no body. It was a weird feeling.

He saw nothing.

There were voices but they sounded distant, like underwater. He tried to focus on them.

He felt awareness creeping up to him.

“What are you looking at?”

His eyes were closed.

“Treatment options.”

A snort.

“He needs to wake up first.”

“The doctor said his brain activity level is increasing.”

“That doesn’t mean he will wake up instantly.”

“Which one of us works at a hospital?”

“You but that is not the point. I think we should talk this through with Peter, no plans until we know what is going on.”

“He tried to kill himself, Tony!”

Peter’s breath nearly caught in his throat. But- there was something. He couldn’t breath. But air was still going in.

“I know,” The man sighed. “And I am all for treatment but we need to know what he needs most right now- professionals or his family.”

“He can have both.”

“Yes, I have looked at the options available. I would like to keep him in the city. It’s familiar, I don’t think whisking him off to some countryside is going to help.”

May sniffed.

“Besides, he won’t be leaving MedBay for some time. His system is pretty much bust, it will be a miracle if he can keep even liquids down. Not to mention his muscles. He needs intensive physiotherapy.”

Peter’s heart jumped and someone grabbed his hand.

“Hey,” Tony’s tone got a lot lighter as he stroked his hand with his thumb. “Are you having a bad dream?”

Peter had not realized he was messing up so bad. He had not wanted to die. Or maybe he had but only for a minute. He thought he could be just brought back and be done with it.

“It’s okay, sweetie,” May kissed his forehead. “We are both here, we guard your sleep.”

How could they sound so soothing and loving when just a minute ago they were disagreeing about him, Peter?

He could not let this go any longer.

He had to fix his life.

It took so much willpower to aim to move even one of his fingers. He could almost sense Tony’s shock.

“May…” The man breathed out. “He- his hand.”

His aunt took in a quick breath.

“Peter?” She lifted one of his eyelids, the light assaulted his vision. “Are you with us?”

The ventilator gave him a breath.

Tony grasped his hand tighter.

“Peter, if you can hear me, squeeze my hand, okay kiddo? I know you can do it.”

How could such a simple task be so impossible? He had learned the art of hand-holding in cradle, he had held his parents’ hands on crossing the street. Mr Stark grasped his hand when helping him up after a battle.

By some miracle, he could move all of his fingers a bit. They twitched and Tony let out a laugh.

“Yes!” The man kissed his hand. “I knew it! I knew you could do it, Peter!”

May was crying, he heard it.

Peter opened his eyes to slits. He saw only white and a blurry image just in front of him. It had no face, no colors aside from greyish black.

But he knew it.

A part of him knew it.

* * *

Heart monitor beeped comfortably and other machines added to the symphony in varying intervals. Tony read the news on the Pad as Peter napped on the gurney. The room had become their home. There was a television, a game set, laptop, selection of magazines and UNO cards.

The man leaned forward to adjust the blanket on Peter better. The boy still had nasal cannula as a precaution. Otherwise he had ditched the awful hospital gown and was now wearing warm pajamas and woolen socks.

Peter jerked awake and Tony grinned.

“Hey.”

Peter gave a slight smile: “Hey.”

The man put the pad on the side table, beside the flowers Pepper had brought yesterday.

“Do you feel okay? Hungry? Thirsty?”

Peter shook his head: he could not yet eat solids and his water was ice chips. For the longest time he had been on tube feeding but they were slowly getting it off.

The weather was getting colder as November approached. There was no question Peter was not going to school this semester. Spring was still a question.

Tony was fond of the idea of Peter taking a year off. The boy was now attending intensive cognitive therapy to fix the flawed mental processes.  The psychiatrist Tony had hired had diagnosed Peter with severe depression and had hinted that he might have Borderline Personality Disorder. There was no official diagnosis since doctors refused to label teenagers whose minds were still developing but Tony had read the symptoms and could agree they fitted Peter to a T. Tony had attended some of those sessions and had been shocked at how low Peter’s self-esteem was. May had been included in the beginning but Peter and her had gotten into fights whenever the subject of Peter’s loneliness was brought up.

Maybe it felt like a personal insult that her efforts were not enough to keep the boy happy.

They rarely touched the subject of the overdose. Peter had no idea what he had done in the apartment but he remembered the feelings. The boy had apologized multiple times.

“I don’t need your apologies, Peter, you should be apologizing to yourself. You are the one who is going to be feeling the damage for the rest of your life.”

The most obvious sign was stuttering. Second was problems with short term memory: Peter could start a task and forget all about it in a second. He had trouble learning and any task with complex and multiple steps was just begging for disaster.

The doctors estimated that with therapy speech impediment might be corrected but memory was more tricky.

Peter’s hands also shook but that issue was getting corrected with intensive physical therapy and right kind of medication. Tony had spared no expense hiring the most creative and brilliant minds of the century to develop medication for Spiderman.

Peter yawned and stretched: his arms were still week but he was getting there.

He was getting better.

Tony knew Peter was never going to be the same excited little boy, his eyes were too dark for it to happen. But he could deal with it, it was still Peter.

His Peter and he would do anything for the boy.

Even if it took the rest of his life.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Bring forth your kudos and comments!


	15. Stay

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Parker apartment burns down

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was my attempt at fluff... Let's see how well it went :D

“Sir, there is an alert about a house fire.”

Tony pressed a pillow against his ear and groaned. “Not my case.”

“Boss, it is Parkers’ home.”

What?

Tony snapped awake and sat up.

“Show me!”

He had expected a status report to appear on the television but no, FRIDAY turned into news station which was on LIVE feed about a block of flats. The upper floors were engulfed in flames and smoke floated thickly up to the night sky.

Peter lived in the highest floor…

Tony knew he had no time to waste.

“Is there a reading on Peter?” He grabbed a pair of jeans from the chair he had thrown them on last night.

“I can sense nothing.”

“Location?”

“All the trackers point to the apartment.”

Tony wanted to scream but he tried to calm down as he pulled on a sweatshirt; it still had oil stains from working on his suit.

“According to the information released, the fire spread quickly. Maybe Mr Parker did not have time to grab his phone or watch.”

“How many fucking times have I told him to keep it on?” Tony engulfed himself into the suit just as Pepper began to stir on the bed. He bolted out the window, he knew FRIDAY would inform her of the reason for his sudden disappearance.

Route to Queens was familiar and he kept his eyes locked on ahead. His sensors detected the smoke.

“Any news on victims?”

“None so far but they are expecting casualties.”

Of course, with that kind of a disaster, it would be a miracle if lives were not lost.

His heart was ready to leap out of his chest as he arrived at Queens Boulevard. Large mass was staring at the burning building, most had on night clothes, some did not even have jackets or shoes. Several ambulances and fire trucks jammed the road as Tony rocketed down and spotted the closest fireman.

“Is everyone out?” He asked immediately and the officer shook his head.

“Most made it out their own but the people in the apartment the fire started from are still unaccounted for. It’s most likely a body recovery mission, no need for IronMan.”

Tony wouldn’t have even volunteered if they asked him.

“Did you see a young boy?” The words stumbled out of his mouth and Tony leveled his hand by his jaw. “He is about this tall, brown hair, brown eyes, skinny, most likely tried to run back to the building after being rescued-”

“Mr Stark?”

Tony froze at the name but the voice talking was wrong. He turned around and nearly cried in relief as he saw May.

“You’re okay,” He called off the suit and embraced the woman. May’s face was pale, with ash covering it in places, her hair in tangles and a bathrobe over her nightgown and slippers.

For once, May accepted Tony’s approach, it was clear the accident had shaken her to the core. She sniffed and forced herself to pull back.

“Peter is here,” She answered the most important question and Tony’s knees nearly gave out as a smile spread on his face. May took his hand and pulled him along. “He breathed in a bit smoke so he is being taken care off, otherwise he would have ran to you when we saw your armor.”

If Tony was to list the best moments of his life, finding Peter sitting in the back of an ambulance, with a blanket over his shoulders and holding an oxygen mask to his face would definitely make top ten. He ran the last few feet and crouched to gather the boy into his arms.

“Thank God!” A hand cradled the boy’s head against his own. “Thank God you’re safe! I was so worried when FRIDAY informed me- Oh, kiddo!”

Tony planted a kiss on Peter’s temple and pulled back to gather the boy’s face against his hands. He wiped at the now dried tears as Peter tried to hold himself together.

“You were terrified, weren’t you?”

Peter nodded frantically and let out a hiccuping breath. Tony cooed and pressed their foreheads together.

“I know, Petey, but you’re safe now.”

“I-” The boy sobbed and buried his face into his mentor’s shoulder. “I’m sorry-”

The man pulled him closer and set the now discarded oxygen mask to the side.

“The suit,” Peter’s mumbled explanation was quiet so the people around them wouldn’t hear. “I tried to grab it but there was smoke.”

“Hey, hey, hey,” Tony felt the need to impart some common sense to the kid, toying the line between mentor and father figure once more. He grabbed Peter’s shoulders and pulled back so he could look at the boy’s eyes through his lowered eyelashes. “It was just material, I can make more of them, but I can’t make another Peter.”

“But- it was expensive-”

“Yes, it was but your life is more precious to everyone,” The man lifted the boy’s chin. “Peter, I don’t ever want to hear of you risking your life just to save some dumb costume or gadget or whatever that can be remanufactured.”

Peter still did not fully take in his point but Tony knew he had to be patient. The boy was still in shock and reasoning with him was pointless. Who knew how much Peter was going to remember of tonight?

“Do you know where the fire started?” He turned to May who had watched the exchange.

“Our next door neighbors. I have no idea what happened, since I only woke to the sound of fire alarm-”

“See, I told you,” Tony gave a grim smile. Last time he and Pepper had been visiting the Parkers (dinner and baby videos of Peter), their fire alarm had started to die. He had deemed the product not salvageable and had started gathering up the other alarms only to his great shock find the two bedroom flat had only one. The next day he had bought and installed alarms to every room and even the hallway.

Just think, if he had not been there that day- Tony rubbed Peter’s knuckles with his thumb.

“I woke Peter up, there was already some smoke in his room and we ran out.”

“Didn’t get any shoes,” Peter whispered and looked at his bare feet. “There was no time.”

Tony took them into his hands and tried to rub some warmth into the veins.

“You have plenty of clothes in the Tower,” He smiled in what he hoped was a reassuring way. “As soon as the nurse clears you, we’ll tuck you into warm bed, okay?”

A sudden explosion forced them to turn their heads to the building. Windows were shattering as fire reacted with oxygen and gas pipes. Tony watched as Peter’s window broke and firemen called people to pull back to avoid injuries from falling debris.

May gave a shuddering breath as she watched her home burn. Tony got up and offered his comfort to her; the woman pressed herself closer to his chest and shook. He looked up and did not need genius brains to figure out nothing could be spared. Everything would be turned to dust.

Books, Pictures, Clothes, Memories- everything gone in an hour.

 

 

Sun began to shine through the clouds as they finally made it to the Tower, neither May nor Peter had slept on the ride. Pepper was waiting for them with tea and sandwiches. May refused the food but gladly took the sleeping pills Tony offered from his cabinet. He knew prescription drugs should not be passed around but May had checked the label, deemed it suitable and taken only one. Peter could manage one sandwich and a cup of hot chocolate before becoming motionless and staring at a wall. Tony took him to his bedroom, tucked him in and stroked his hair until Peter’s breathing evened out and his eyes closed.

“Try to get some sleep, buddy. I'll be in the living room.”

He made sure the covers were tightly wrapped and Peter’s position was comfortable. The nurse had instructed them to keep an eye on coughing and wheezing breaths. For now, the boy was breathing in and out but he occasionally let in a quick breath that sounded like a sob.

“FRIDAY, monitor him for me, alright?”

He left the door open and the light on.

Pepper was sitting on the couch, already working on her StarkPad. Tony took his own and started arranging housing for the victims of the fire. They all needed so much, he had to make calls if his business associates were willing to donate either money or material to cover basic needs.

“It’s terrible,” He shook his head as he started to make a list to local organization. “100 people lost their homes for good. Other 150 can go and gather their belongings but Peter and May- they have nothing but the clothes on their backs.”

“It’s a huge shock,” Pepper affirmed. “We need to be sensitive, they’re going to need lots of support.”

“Thanks for reminding,” Tony lifted a finger as he checked a page. “We need crisis services to everyone involved in the fire.”

“Maybe even a psychologist for May, she lost all tangible memorabilia about Ben, you saw the pictures and his clothes May kept around.”

Tony shook his head and laughed bitterly: “It’s so ironic. You remember when our Malibu Home was destroyed, we were on our feet practically immediately.”

“Of course, we have money and nothing of emotional value was lost,” Pepper saw the point. “Plus you were able to retrieve your bots, we lost practically nothing but cars, furniture and clothes.”

“But May and Peter have worked harder for everything they owned. You saw their home, so warm and cozy and filled with life. Their apartment was like its own person.”

“But didn’t they have to move?” Pepper confirmed and Tony shrugged: “Yes, I met Peter at their old place but they moved to a smaller flat a month later. Basically the same but a mirror picture.”

“May and Ben’s wedding picture, Peter’s memorabilia of his parents,” Pepper felt tears in her eyes as she thought about the pain the two would be in. Both were still in deep shock and it would take a long time to get back on their feet.

 

Peter slept for three hours until he woke up to a nightmare. It was not one with a clear motif but a sensation of dread and darkness. He stumbled out of bed and trudged to the living room. Tony had helped him change clothes earlier and even given him the MIT sweatshirt he admired from afar. It was warm and soft and smelled comforting.

“Hey, kiddo,” Tony’s greeting was bright and he opened his arms, Peter sank into them immediately. They did not usually hug so often but he welcomed the expressions of affection.

“Did you sleep well, sweetie?” Pepper smiled gently.

“No,” Peter shook his head and sank onto the couch and crawled until his head rested on Tony’s feet.

“Aww, that’s too bad. If you want, we can give you something the next time you want to go to bed.”

The boy shrugged and played with the material of Tony’s jeans. The man’s hand came down to caress his cheek.

“I called your school and told what happened. You are given permission to take your time to recover and the school curator and psychologist are willing to help you. They also said something about organizing a fundraiser to help you and your aunt.”

“Okay,” Peter nodded. Tony frowned at the lack of response, usually Peter would be saying others did not need bother for him but now all the fight had been drained.

“Crisis worker is coming here in the afternoon to talk to you and May. You don’t have to partake in it but it might help in going over what happened and how it feels.”

“Sure.”

Tony grabbed Peter’s shoulder and a ran a thumb over it comfortingly. He looked at Pepper who seemed just as lost as he felt.

“You can talk to us too, if you want, Peter.”

The boy shook his head.

“It’s okay, you don’t have to, sweetie,” Pepper placated and moved some hair away from his eyes. “Just take your time, you are still in shock.”

“But we are here for you both,” Tony felt the need to add. “Whenever you feel like you need anyone, be it during the day or night, just call for me.”

 

 

The session with crisis worker helped Peter’s condition tremendously, even though it made Peter cry to remember how he had woken up to smoke invading his room.

“You can say anything, it is all confidential. No feeling is ever wrong.”

And so Peter cried about losing his things, the watch Mr Stark had given him, his school books (how could they ever afford new ones?), Tales of Peter Rabbit his Mom had read to him and the baby book that had his parent’s writing about his milestones for the first four years of his life.

“And the videos,” The boy whined. “I can’t remember their voices without them!”

May was quieter but she listed what she lost: Ben’s clothes that still had his scent on them, their wedding album, her wedding dress and little gifts he brought her over the years, the things that made home theirs. They have gathered all the books, movies and furniture over their long years together and now it was all gone.

Tony and Pepper stayed out during the talk, both trying to work on their tasks but finding it hard to concentrate. Pepper had called off all her meetings for the day and the next, she knew May and Peter needed people around.

The door finally opened, Peter walked out first, eyes puffy and face red. He walked to Tony and then whispered: “I want Mom and Dad.”

Tony understood; it had been years and he still longed for his mother in times of grief and joy.

“Oh, kiddo,” He stood up and pulled the boy close. Peter’s arms wrapped around his middle and Tony watched as the worker started talking to Pepper and May left for her own room. He wanted to follow her but he had a priority in his hands.

“How about I find some pictures of them online, would that help?”

Besides, maybe May was like him and wanted to grieve alone.

 

 

A week passed in haze. Peter’s resilience was once again shown as after three days, he was eating normally again and even managed to smile a little. May however, retreated into herself and showed clear signs of depression. She spent her days in bed, either sleeping or watching television. Pepper had given her some clothes but she preferred the spare pajamas. FRIDAY informed them she had not showered since the first day and that was a worrying sign. May Parker was a woman who took care of her looks even when working all the time and raising a teenager.

“Maybe she needs something familiar,” Peter suggested while Tony placed more eggs and bacon onto his plate. “Like, she has not spent nights here and it can be a bit overwhelming how rich you guys are.”

“We don’t wave our money around,” The man scoffed and sat down to finish his coffee.

“Maybe not consciously but c’mon, have you even checked the labels you keep in the bathroom? It took me months to learn what each one was for. We are used to economy packs, less quality,” Peter blushed, money was always a sore issue and the started of many arguments between him and his mentor.

Pepper thought about the point and nodded: “It actually makes sense.”

Tony had to take their word for it. He had been born with inheritance while Pepper and Peter were from lower-middle class families that had to learn the ways of the rich and fabulous.

“Okay, so, she needs new stuff, that can be easily arranged.”

After breakfast, Tony knocked on May’s door and opened it slightly.

“We’re going to the store, do you need anything special?”

May shook her head and buried deeper into her pillow.

“I’m taking care of Peter for now so you can rest. You’re free to take whatever you want from the fridge, ask FRIDAY if there are any issues. You have my number, call me if anything comes up.”

The trip to the mall was a rare chance for normalcy and they made the most of it. Tony and Pepper bought Peter some more new clothes, a pair of sensible shoes (the boy’s feet had grown) and they bought little decorative items to make both rooms feel more like home. Pepper led them to the women’s stores where they selected clothes for May (with Peter being the ultimate judge, Tony’s choice of a little black dress was immediately vetoed) and luxury make up.

“She needs a little spoiling after all she has been through,” Pepper commented at Peter’s suspicious look. “Besides, these are way better for skin than cheap market products.”

Tony was in the charge of choosing lipstick and concealer colors for May (he had impeccable eye for makeup).

“We’re home!” Peter called and set down three large bags of soaps, towels, shampoos, anything they usually got from supermarkets. Tony had gone all out and bought anything Peter recalled seeing at home, but he had set the limit at fairy liquid (“Mr Stark, seriously!”). Pepper and Tony followed with paper bags that were a jarring contrast to the plastic ones.

“May!” Peter opened the door and ran to his aunt. “May, look what we bought!”

Pepper stepped in and set on the light. She eyed the form on the bed sadly. Tony stepped in right after and shared her sentiment and worry.

“Look,” Peter showed her a bottle of shampoo. “It’s the same as in home!”

May nodded but did not take the item. Peter frowned at the lack of eagerness from his usually so lively aunt.

“Um, we bought some new clothes too,” He took a bag from Pepper and opened it to reveal a beautiful dark red blouse. “I tried to think what you would like. I know it’s all a bit more expensive than usual but the mall really didn’t have cheap stores.”

“It’s great, sweetie,” May tried to smile but it did not reach her eyes. Peter’s expression fell into anxiety and he looked at his mentor.

Tony cleared his throat.

“I am beat from all that walking. How about we go out to eat tonight? I’m feeling for some Chinese. May, is that okay?”

The woman shook her head: “I’m not really hungry, Tony.”

“May,” Peter’s worry grew. “What is wrong with you? Are you sick?”

“I don’t know, Peter,” May whispered and Tony was dreadfully reminded of the scene of Littlefoot’s Mother dying (he had been a freaking mess during and after the scene, Peter had had to pause the movie).

“But you have to eat,” The boy tried. “You can’t just lie here and sleep! You’ll die!”

“I won’t die, Peter,” May tried to reason her nephew. “I’m just tired and sad.”

“May,” Pepper stepped forward and sat on the bed. “Would it help if we called someone?”

“Peter,” Tony saw it as a cue to leave; if May was going to open up, she would not do so with Peter present. Even in her depressed state, she was still trying to protect the boy. That was why she was not around, she did not want to tamper Peter’s grieving and recovery with her more serious issues. “C’mon, let’s go put your stuff to your room.”

Peter stood up reluctantly, it was only Pepper’s hard but soft look that made him drop the paper bag and walk away. As soon as they got into Peter’s room, the boy sank to the floor and started crying.

“She won’t even try!” Peter banged the floor and sobbed. “Why won’t she try?”

“Kiddo,” Tony got to his knees and hugged the boy, the gesture had become a second nature during the week. “She is trying but she needs a little extra help.”

“I know she is depressed, she was before but now-” Peter whined.

“It was the breaking point. A person can only take so much before their mind and body start working against them.”

“I know, I-” Peter quieted.

“I have depression, Peter,” Tony offered. “I have had since before I can remember, that is why I drank so much. I take medication now and it truly helps, stops my brain from focusing on the bad thoughts.”

The boy gulped and gathered courage: “I might sometimes have depressive episodes.”

Tony nodded, he had suspected as much. “Okay, we need to work on that. Sadness is normal but prolonged depression is not. Would you mind if I arranged you a meeting with a psychologist?”

“So I can talk about myself?” Peter grinned, Tony had often described therapy as fun since it was nothing but talking about yourself for an hour.

“Yes, exactly,” Tony rolled his eyes bemusedly.

 

 

Tony hired a psychologist to talk with May five times a week. The meetings were done at the Tower and slowly progress was done. The first day May willingly got out of her room, Peter nearly tackled her into a hug and did not let go for the rest of the day.

She was described antidepressants which at first caused her mild nausea for the first week.

“I had the same reaction,” Tony told when she complained she dared not eat anything. “But it goes away very quickly, you don’t starve if you eat poorly for a few days.”

Tony also encouraged Peter to talk to a professional, firstly about the apartment fire but then about anything else that came to mind.

After a month, life began to flow again. The quartet had formed their own routines and they became even more of a makeshift family. Peter enjoyed having more people around and Tony and Pepper created clear schedule to follow. They had meal times, ate breakfast and dinner together and on weekends took outings to get much needed fresh air. Peter and Tony started jogging at Central Park (where Peter spent half the time chasing dogs).

Finally, Peter asked to go back to school. He had not dared because May was so sad and even Tony could not be present all the time to take care of her. But May was getting her energy back although she was still on undetermined sick leave.

“You shouldn’t have done this,” Peter said as he read his new school books. Tony and him had gone shopping earlier that day and for once in his life, Peter had gotten every book brand new and also three backpacks, pencils, calculator, a mountain of notebooks, journal, laptop, wallet (Tony had taken care of renewing all his and May’s cards) and anything else a student could dream of.

“Hey, we can’t have our star pupil failing high school,” Tony smirked while leafing through the math book. He took a notebook and began to solve the problems on paper. Peter looked at his mentor’s fast handwriting and snorted: “So that is your idea of a good time?”

“Says the boy building Legos.”

“My hobby is at least somewhat normal,” Peter argued. “Yours is just- weird.”

“You don’t become a billionaire by being ordinary, kid.”

“I thought your father and Pepper made you all the money.”

“Ah, my Padawan, you wound me,” Tony jested, he loved a good banter.

 

 

The morning Peter left for school, May sat down and began to search to for a suitable apartment. The choices were limited, they had very little assets plus the place had to be within good public transport to get them to school and work.

“This is hopeless,” She sighed and rubbed her eyes. “There is nothing on New York in our wealth category.”

Tony frowned and looked at the screen.

“How about that one?” He pointed at a two bedroom flat near Queens. “Looks suitable.”

“Rent is too high,” May shook her head. “I’m not getting fully paid during my sick leave and we had little savings to begin with.”

“I could give you-”

“No,” May shook her head and Tony sighed: what was with these people and money? He would gladly give them half of his fortune if they only allowed it.

“I appreciate the offer but we can manage it.”

“May, I don’t doubt your guts but it will be difficult. Let me at least call my realtor-”

“Tony, I doubt he deals with low-income housing.”

“He was the one who managed to get all the others some emergency housing,” Tony pointed out and May raised an eyebrow.

“Emergency- there was emergency housing? Why was I not told about this?”

“Because you had- and have- a place here for as long as you want and need.”

May still looked a little hurt and skeptical.

“Besides, it was better for Peter to be in a familiar environment.”

“True,” May nodded and Tony was relieved; even if they disagreed on some accounts, they always were on the same page when it was a question of Peter’s well-being and happiness.

May checked the pages for some minutes more until she spoke up: “There is always the chance of moving away.”

Tony’s stomach turned to ice.

“What?”

“Leaving New York for some place smaller. My pay would be about the same but the living expenses would be much lower. Maybe we could even get a house with a yard, Peter would like that. He has always wanted a dog but we can’t get one here.”

No, Tony felt like crying. Peter couldn’t leave. What would he do without the chance of seeing the boy everyday? If Peter left, they would only be in contact through phone and video chats and meet maybe once a month. It would not be enough.

They wouldn’t have time to meet because Tony would die of a broken heart before it.

“But what about Peter’s school?”

“I don’t want to leave and neither does Peter but if we can’t find an apartment here-”

“You can stay here!”

The words were out before he even thought about them. Then Tony thought them over: Peter and May staying in the Tower.

Yes. It could work.

“Tony,” May let out a disbelieving laughter. “I don’t know-”

“No, hush,” Tony waved his hand as he began to pace. “It- it actually makes sense! Think about it! You can live here rent free, all expenses are covered: you don’t have to pay water, heating, electricity, cable, nothing! You both have privacy, hell, I can modify one of the floors into an apartment for you two! Peter’s school is close and you can get to work through subway, or Happy can drive you depending on your shifts. Meanwhile, you can save your paychecks and still keep looking for apartment.”

The man was elated, over the moon as the plans began to form in his head. He could just picture it all: Peter being there everyday for breakfast, game nights, fighting about who left dirty dishes in the sink, the kind of domesticity you don’t get from staying over just occasionally.

“It’s foolproof!”

May was silent for a moment as she suspiciously recalled everything Tony had said.

“You would let us stay?”

Tony nodded before answering: “Of course! This Tower is too big for two people!”

“SI headquarters is located downstairs-”

“You know what I mean,” Tony waved his hand impatiently and May’s smile grew.

“Would Pepper be okay with it?”

“She is thrilled with anything that keeps from me from drowning in work. She loves both of you! Besides, she used to live with the Avengers, we are both used to lots of noise and action.”

May seemed to warm up to the idea.

“I don’t feel good about staying here for free.”

“Then we can settle a small compensation so that your conscience is quieted but you can still save up for the future.”

“I don’t think a billionaire would put any value on what I can pay,” May smiled slightly but Tony was for once in his life serious.

“May, the money you can give me has more value than anything I have on my bank account.”

Tears burned her eyes as she looked at the benefactor.

“You won’t regret this?”

Tony shook his head: “If I do, I’ll move out and you can stay here.”

May wiped at her eyes and felt like a heavy load had been lifted from her heart.

“Peter is going to be so thrilled when he hears.”

Tony offered his phone: “Which one of us tells him?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Say hey to me at irondadgroupie.tumblr.com


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